The Boy Who Cried Help
by fallingfireflies
Summary: When Harry Potter was six, he met a young blond boy who changed his life for the better. But as they grow older, their friendship is tested until the largest test reveals itself: the sorting hat at Hogwarts - WARNING contains child abuse from the Dursleys and will end up HPDM
1. Of Ice Cream and Constellations

When Harry Potter was a young child – only 5 or 6 at the latest – he figured he wasn't normal. After all, being called a "freak" and "worthless" was sure to leave an impact on the poor boy. He was so used to being everyone's least favorite, for someone to notice him was a foreign thought.

So when Harry was at the small park about a kilometer or so from his relatives' house (he refused to call it his own home, because aren't you supposed to feel _loved_ and _safe_ at your home?) he didn't think anyone would notice him. They never did, even though he showed up at the park every Saturday, often with a new bump or more stains on his shirt.

They probably thought he was homeless, or he got into street fights, or maybe he just didn't take care of himself.

But how is a six-year-old supposed to be expected to take care of himself? Harry had no experience of care and his relatives never thought of his wellbeing. All Harry knew was he was practically a servant to his aunt, a punching bag to his cousin, and a nuisance to his uncle. Why would anyone willingly take him in?

That was the question he asked his uncle that morning (_don't ask questions_ was now a mantra Harry couldn't stop repeating in his head).

"Uncle Vernon, sir?" Harry didn't know why he had opened his mouth, but he did and couldn't back out now. His uncle muttered a few choice words and glared at the too-small boy in front of him.

"What do you want, boy? It better be important."

"Why did you," Harry broke off and almost asked a different question, one that would surely cause less of a reaction than this one would. But he knew he wouldn't get the chance to ask again, so he licked his lips and tried to gather any courage he possessed. "Why did you take me in?"

Uncle Vernon snapped his head up and gave the boy a filthy scowl. "Don't get any ideas, boy! We don't want you; we just want the money we get from you. If it weren't for that, you would have been far away from here before one could say 'freak'!"

That (rather short) conversation was followed by a hand cuffing his right ear and his uncle sending him off to "play" with Dudley.

But Harry wasn't an idiot, oh no, and he knew what "playing" entitled. So quickly he snagged a piece of the bread (only the rye bread, his aunt would know if he stole any other kind) and made his way to the park.

That was what he was doing now. He just finished his bread and was hiding behind one of the trees so Dudley and his "gang" (who has a gang when they're six?) wouldn't find him. But, alas, nothing could go right for Harry, could it?

While Harry was trying to be as invisible as possible, he was spotted by Piers. It wasn't much of a surprise; he was slightly smarter than the rest of them – while still being as dumb as a rock.

"Hey, Big D," The boy called to Harry's cousin. "I found the freak!" He gave the raven-haired boy a cruel grin and moved to let Dudley see him. "He was trying to hide from us, isn't that just pathetic?" The boys laughed and Harry cowered against the tree.

"Aw, is poowr Hawwy afwaid?" Dudley pretended to be compassionate and looked to his friends. He put his hand to where his heart was (if he had one) and spoke in a cool voice. "Maybe we should give him 5 seconds today instead of 3!" His friends all laughed and Harry hurried to stand up. If he wished to get by with limited scratches, he was going to have to find new shelter.

10 minutes and several injuries later, Harry realized that he really hated his life.

After he limped back to the house an hour later, his aunt put him right to work. The dishes were done quickly (Harry liked to do the cleaning the most because then he could at least free his hands and arms from the dirt and grime) and was then sent outside to weed the garden and water Aunt Petunia's hanging flowers.

It was now midday and the sun was blistering. Harry occasionally took some of the water from the hose and splashed it on his skin, but he was careful not to get his clothes wet. He learned from experience that wet clothes meant not coming inside until they were dry again. He also took mouthfuls of the warm water to satisfy his hunger. It was always this way. No breakfast unless he could steal some, no lunch unless he could steal some, and dinner only if he wasn't caught stealing the food from the previous two meals. And even then, Harry wouldn't call a ladle of soup and half of a roll "dinner".

A familiar tune made the young boy's head snap up. When the ice cream truck came into sight, Harry's mouth began to water. He's never had ice cream but could imagine what it tasted like. He had no doubt Dudley already got his ice cream a few streets away, but if he hadn't, he surely would be begging his parents for some money to get a cone.

Harry's aunt and uncle always gave Dudley enough money for two cones, but not so he could share it with Harry. They always did the same thing: give Dudley a lot of money, make sure Harry sees it, tell Dudley to spend it all on himself. Harry is stuck watching with a rumbling stomach.

Harry groaned, it wasn't even the cheap Popsicle and nutty buddy truck. This was a high-class neighborhood so it was the actual 18-different-flavors, best-ice-cream-in-the-world truck. And Harry couldn't have any.

Harry turned back to his chores and heard the truck pass him, but stop a few feet before it reached the next house. He looked up, confused. Surely the driver wasn't stopping for him, but there weren't any more kids on this street. Harry dreaded looking and seeing one of his cousin's friends, they weren't supposed to be back for another hour at least. But what he saw surprised him.

There was a young boy, probably about his age, with white-blond hair asking the man at the window for a small mint chocolate chip ice cream in a dish. Harry didn't recall ever seeing him before and there wasn't anyone who moved in recently. Maybe he was visiting a relative? Either that or he was on a long walk all by himself.

While the boy was waiting, Harry saw him look around. His nose wrinkled at the houses and Harry knew immediately what he was thinking. It was a more expensive neighborhood so all of the houses looked the same. All had the same structure and land size and color. The only difference was Harry's house, which had a large flower bed which bordered the front steps. Aunt Petunia loved flowers, so it was always a chore to make sure they stayed pretty.

The flowers caught the blond boy's attention and he smiled at them from his spot waiting for the man to finish making his treat. But then a movement made him curious and he tilted his head, squinting until he saw the shadow of a boy hunching by the plants. Looking further, he saw marks of dry blood and bruises littering his small frame.

"Hey," the blond started, "are you okay?" Harry huddled closer to himself and went back to pulling weeds from the dirt. Uncle Vernon always said that if he talked to strangers he would suffer. Harry knew what his uncle did wasn't right, but if he ever told someone it was sure to get worse.

The blond saw him move to become less visible and frowned. Why was this boy so afraid? He looked like he could use a friend. Would it be a good idea to befriend him? How would he even manage to do so? The man from the truck spoke, breaking his attention from the boy who didn't look older than five. He gave his money to the man and took his ice cream, but before the truck could move he got an idea.

"Could you stay here for a few moments, please?" The blond spoke and Harry heard the agreement from the man in the truck. He slowly grew frightened. The boy was coming his way, what would Uncle Vernon do if he saw him?

The boy stopped a few feet away and stood silently for a few seconds, hoping the smaller of the two would look at him. He was shaking softly and his head was turned away. When he didn't look up, he began to speak.

"Are you okay?" He asked again and, like before, failed to get a reply. He noticed now that he was closer that the black-haired boy had numerous bruises easily seeable on his arms and legs. He could assume that there were even more underneath his over-sized shirt and shorts. Also, there was no baby fat on the young boy and his cheek bones were prominent. It was obvious this boy was under-fed, and he knew just what to do about that.

"Hey, do you want some of my ice cream?" Harry stopped shaking and looked curiously at the blond. Was he offering food? Harry didn't deserve food. Harry realized after a second what this must mean. Dudley was always playing tricks; this could be one of them. Harry looked around furiously, trying to find the boys he hated. When he couldn't, he risked a glance at the taller boy. He was wearing expensive clothing but didn't seem very stuck-up. Maybe this wasn't a trick?

But Harry knew not to take anyone's food. He's supposed to only eat the scraps. If someone offers food, they pity you. Harry didn't want someone to pity him; he wanted someone to care for him. He shook his head softly but couldn't help hoping he'd offer again – just a bite would do wonders for Harry's aching stomach.

The blond boy frowned. His father had told him that not all families had as much money as they did, but this was ridiculous. The boy seemed to live here, he kept throwing worried glances at the door, but he was hurt and was wearing clothes much too large for him. Even the Weasley's could afford to take showers; this boy looked like he hadn't showered or bathed in over a week. He felt sure this boy wasn't treated very well, by why would he refuse ice cream? Oh! Maybe he didn't like mint!

"Come on, I'll buy you some ice cream." Harry couldn't believe his ears. How could this _stranger_ possibly give him a chance this great? Harry couldn't accept this!

"I wouldn't be able to pay you back." Harry whispered, just loud enough for the boy to hear him. After speaking, the blond positively _beamed_.

"That's alright! It's my father's money anyways, and it's not like ice cream costs much! Come on!" He held out his hand to help the boy off of the ground.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother…" Harry trailed off, hoping he would be accepted anyways.

"You aren't! Come with me, uh, what's your name?" The blond looked sheepish and Harry blushed. He took the hand that was offered to him and they walked back to the truck.

"'M Harry" he said and the blond smiled.

"Hello, I'm Draco, what flavor would you like?" The boy – _Harry _– frowned a little.

"Draco? Like the constellation?" Once again, Draco's eyes lit up.

"You know astronomy?" Harry shrugged.

"Not really, but I have a globe that has a lot of the stars and constellations and such." Harry did in fact have a globe like this. It was a present for _Duddykins_ but he didn't like it so it went to the freak. It's the only toy Harry has. It should've lit up and projected the stars on the walls, but that required batteries, which Harry hasn't ever had.

"That's neat," Draco aimed to please Harry. "Draco means dragon in Latin, my family tends to have weird names, but they're meaningful if you say them in another language. My aunt's name is Bellatrix, which means the warrior in Latin, and that definitely describes her." His pale eyes danced merrily when talking of his family. By this time they were up to the window up the truck.

"So what do you want?" He asked again and Harry's eyes roamed over all of the options.

"I don't know" he answered truthfully. "I've never had ice cream before." Draco's eyes and jaw popped open.

"Never?" He asked and Harry shrugged.

"No, my cousin has it a lot but I haven't." Draco shook his head in sadness.

"Well that is no way to live." He said finally. "What kind of foods do you like? Do you like sweet things? Nuts? Fruits?" Harry looked uncomfortable.

"Um, I don't know. I don't eat much of a variety." Draco's eyes narrowed. Now he was sure Harry wasn't treated correctly. He didn't even know what foods he liked!

"Well then you'll try everything." He decided. Harry's eyes widened but Draco ignored it. Turning to the man, he asked for a small spoonful of each of the eighteen flavors for Harry to try.

Many minutes later, Draco decided this was a very good day. Harry displayed his emotions openly on his face and it was very amusing to watch. When he didn't like the hazelnut, Draco knew. When he thought the vanilla was amazing, Draco knew. When he thought the cookies 'n cream was _heavenly_, well Draco knew that too.

Harry ended with a small cookies 'n cream in a dish and seemed to be having the best day of his life. The sad thing to Draco was this very well could be the happiest he's been. If that wasn't awful, he didn't know what was.

They both took their treats, Draco's nearly finished and Harry's disappearing rather quickly, and sat back by the plants the raven-haired boy was tending to.

"So, how old are you?" Draco asked and Harry looked up, surprised.

"Uh, I'm six right now. I turn seven in a couple of months. What about you?" Draco carefully hid his look of shock.

"You don't look six. I'm turning seven next Friday, on the 6th." Harry smiled at him, but before he could say anything, a shout was heard from inside the brown house.

"BOY!" Harry flinched and stood up quickly.

"Go, go, go!" He cried desperately to the blond and Draco only stood numbly. The shorter boy gathered the cups and threw them into the large garbage bin in the garage. He began pushing Draco away and the blond got the sense that he should leave, but still didn't quite know why is was so abrupt. Surely his relatives wouldn't care if they were only talking?

But Harry didn't seem to want him there so Draco started to walk away, a slightly hurt expression taking over his face. Harry hastily sat back in the garden and weeded urgently, casting looks towards the large door.

"BOY!" The yell was louder this time and Draco stood hidden behind some bushes as he watched the ensuing scene in front of him.

The door was thrown open and a man hardly able to fit through said door appeared. His face was a plum and his eyes were two furious embers, glaring at the small boy in his plants. The man's voice lowered considerably.

"Why are those not weeded?" Harry flinched at the dangerous edge in his voice. "ANSWER ME, BOY. You think you're too good for this? Get inside, _this instant_." Harry was shaking as he rose.

"Sir, I-"

"NOT A WORD FROM YOU! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR GOD-AWFUL VOICE IN MY HOUSE." Draco himself quivered in fear from the man's tone. Did Harry deal with this every day? This man was impossible! He says one thing then goes back on it and says another! But Harry feebly nodded and ducked underneath the man on his way in the house. The man looked around rapidly before shoving Harry's shoulder so he would hurry and slammed the door shut.


	2. Of Buckets and Saviors

To answer **darknightstalker**, yes Lucius will be in this and he will be good (enough) ;) xx

Draco stood shell-shocked for a few moments before realizing what he just watched. He wanted terribly to knock on the door, just to see what the whale-of-a-man would do, but for some reason he felt it would do more bad than good.

He backed away slowly and started walking back to his house. It was a fair ways away, probably a 30-something minute walk, but Draco knew his parents wouldn't be home at all that day so he took the chance to get out of the manor. This wasn't an unusual occurrence – Draco knew his parents' jobs were quite – restricting – sometimes. Unexpected calls were frequent; Draco was just rarely alone during them. He typically had Crabbe or Millicent to spend the day with when this happened to their parents.

However, today was one of the days Draco just wanted to spend with his parents. It was uncommon that the three Malfoys' schedules lined up providing a free day for all of them to spend together. Today should've been relaxing and full of fun, but instead the Dark Lord had to be a brat and call another meeting.

Draco sighed and passed the small park that was between his and Harry's houses. It was mostly fields for football and such but there was also a small playground and it was surrounded completely by trees. He debated stopping and sitting under an overhanging willow tree for a few minutes, but he changed his mind when he saw a group of boys stalking around. Draco narrowed his eyes at their obvious searching for weak targets to pick on.

With a quick shake of his head, he walked quicker to his house in hopes of finding comfort. He didn't like being away from home since he didn't fare well in situations which he knows nothing and no one. Being surrounded by muggles and unknown technology tended to set him on edge.

When Draco finally got home, he was disappointed to see that the Dark Loser didn't decide to be generous and send his parents back early. He felt a pang of sadness – why couldn't he just have a happy family? His father was always reminding Draco that they loved him and that if they had a choice, they wouldn't have ever served Voldemort.

Yet they still do. All the young Malfoy can hope is that he won't ever have to obey the man.

Draco collapsed on the sofa (not bothering to mind his manners because really, who was ever there to see him?) and picked up a close book. It was of a higher reading level: age 8 or 9 at least. He started to read it but couldn't focus on the words and instead let his thoughts wander back to the raven-haired boy.

He was much too thin for his age, not to mention too short; when they were standing side-by-side, Harry came up to only a little above his shoulders. The boy was also jittery and always on guard. It was almost as if everything was a threat to him. But Draco prided himself in not being stupid and he realized almost as soon as he met the young boy that everything probably _was_ a threat to him.

Draco pursed his lips and shook his head sourly. The people he lived with did nothing to positively help the wizarding world's constant debate over whether or not muggles are any good. It was around then that the blond decided he was going to go back and visit Harry again. After all, if the Dark Dimwit keeps calling as often as he has, Draco will have many more free days.

Harry was miserable.

That was the best word the boy could come up within his six-year-old vocabulary which accurately described his current situation.

He was tired, he was sore, he was hungry, he was nervous, he was _miserable_.

Harry allowed a small smile to grace his face before pulling it back in; miserable was a level three word and he was only on level one in his English class. He shook his head slightly, why was he more miserable than usual?

Harry pondered that quietly while sitting in his cupboard. He was so tired, his joints were stiff and his stomach ached from when he was being tossed around. The black-haired boy was just thankful he'd been able to keep the little amount of food he consumed that day in his body. He was worried about what happened a few hours earlier.

When his Uncle called for him, he knew right away that he was going to get a few slaps. He dreaded it, sure, but he knew he deserved it. After all, it was okay for someone to discipline their child wasn't it? And since he hadn't finished such an easy chore, he deserved it… didn't he?

But what made him upset was that Draco, his new blond friend he couldn't help but want to keep, was going to see what was wrong with him. He was going to see that Harry was unworthy of attention and that thought made Harry _miserable_. Because while he knew he didn't deserve to have such a friend as Draco (someone who _offered_ him food… he didn't even have to ask!) he still felt the greed seep through his veins. He wanted someone to _care_, damn it!

But now Draco knew: he knew that Harry was a loner, he knew that Harry didn't have a good family or any friends. But perhaps that wasn't the part that made the young boy upset. More likely it was the fact that Harry never needed anyone before their encounter… _so what had changed since then?_

When before all Harry had wanted was a day without a slap, now he wanted the impossible, something he'd never have. Or rather he wanted some_one_: a friend, a reliant, a certain blond-haired boy by the name of Draco.

Harry shook his head and dispelled all thoughts related to the boy. Why should he be hung up on someone he'd never see again?

Loud footsteps from his aunt had Harry jumping up to meet her when she would open his door. He heard the locks click and her head came in view of his eyes.

"I need to go back into work so _you'll _be cooking tonight. If I hear that you burnt even _one crumb of food…_" she sneered and backed away from his room, slamming the door as she left. The loud noise echoed in his ears along with her unfinished threat. Harry sighed in despair. He was only six! Of course he was going to mess up the food and more than likely a large amount of it would end up burnt! So that meant only one thing – Harry would be receiving another few hits before the day finished.

The next day had Harry stretching his impossibly short body to reach the tallest shelves in the garage. This chore happened once a month – most often the day after his worst beatings. The night before was atrocious – when Harry was making dinner, he managed to drop the basket of rolls then further burn half of the rice.

He was rewarded with a screaming uncle and a pathetic cousin whimpering about how "he burnt my food, daddy, the freak was jealous and burnt my food". He was kicked multiple times in the stomach before his uncle ordered him back to his room.

Now he was told to go and clean the garage, something that required heavy-lifting and a hefty amount of stretching his midsection to reach the highest shelves. Every time his arms went above his head, he bit his lip in pain and had to rest – causing the chore to be taking much longer than it should, considering how often Harry is forced to clean the garage.

When Harry was moving to reach some buckets on the highest shelf, he grimaced in pain. His ribs were bruised and Harry had no desire to finish the job. But his eyes clenched tight painfully as he rose even further and his fingertips touched the rim of the tallest bucket…

Just as it was taken down from the ledge.

Harry yelped in surprise and spun on his toes – nearly falling off of the stepstool he was on in the process – to being apologizing for not being tall enough. But the sight that met him shocked him out of saying more than a pitiful "I'm sorry".

Because there, standing in all of his blond-haired glory, was Draco.

His raised eyebrow and small half-smile showed that he was amused by Harry's antics. Harry would've hidden his blushing face if it wasn't for the concern he could see in the taller boy's eyes.

"Hello" Harry said simply, willing his stained cheeks to return to his normal pale color – no matter how many hours Harry spends in the sun, he still manages to burn every inch of his body _except_ for his face.

"Hello" Draco replied lightly. "Are you quite alright?" Harry recognized the depth of that question and shrugged his right shoulder.

"I've been better." He said, being sure to give nothing away. However, in his head he was repeating: _I've been better, but I've definitely been worse._

Draco nodded and looked around to figure out what exactly the small boy was doing. He realized quickly that it seemed like a big job, so he probably shouldn't distract him. The memories of the day before were burned into his head and Draco didn't want Harry to get in trouble because of him again. When he looked back up at the shelf Harry was standing near, he got an idea.

"Do you need any help?" Harry looked up from where he was staring at his toes. Help? Why would he help him? Draco indicated towards the buckets Harry was trying to reach and offered a small smile.

Harry stood dumbstruck. Why did Draco insist on being so nice? Didn't he realize that Harry couldn't possibly make this up to him?

Harry's silence confirmed Draco's last suspicions. He didn't feel loved. He felt like a burden, he felt like he wasn't worthy of help, and that infuriated the blond.

Draco knew then more than ever that he needed to help out his friend because whether he accepted it or not, he WAS his friend and he WAS going to help. So Draco strolled to the buckets and plucked the next one off of the shelf to give to the smaller boy. Harry only accepted it wordlessly and stared up at the boy who was helping him _by choice_.

After a few moments, Harry moved and they got into a rhythm. Draco would pull items off of the wooden sills and give them to Harry. The latter would then wipe any dust off uncaringly before setting it on the ground near the shelf where it was supposed to go. They worked in silence until Draco began to get antsy.

He had noticed when he first went up to the boy that he was in obvious pain. Harry's face was scrunched up in the pressure he was applying to his injuries and it hurt Draco to see such a small boy be forced to experience that. Draco wanted to know why someone would do this to him.

"So, erm, Harry," Draco started, clearing his throat in an un-Malfoy manor. Harry only tensed and nodded to show he was listening. "That man that shouted yesterday, who was he?"

Harry had by this time ceased all movement and was looking thoroughly at his feet. What was he supposed to tell him? The truth? He couldn't possibly; if he did then he'd ditch him for sure!

Draco sensed Harry had a dilemma and rushed to speak talking. "It's just, Harry, you seem to do a lot of chores and, um, it's really not right. And the man was awfully rude and it's his fault the garden wasn't weeded because he's the one who should've been weeding it in the first place." Draco gained courage through his speech when he saw Harry's raise his head a bit.

"No," Harry mumbled quiet enough that Draco struggled to hear him. "I need to earn my keep. I'm lucky they took me in at all." Draco was confused now. He seemed to be quoting someone, the awful man no doubt, but he also seemed to _believe_ it. But if they took him in, he wasn't his father (something Draco found himself incredibly relieved by because no father should ever treat his son like that).

"That isn't true. You're six, right? How could you possibly take care of yourself?" Harry snorted and Draco looked confused.

"I always say that exact same thing to myself, but it doesn't stop people from telling me to do so."

"Well that isn't fair." Draco argued vehemently and Harry shrugged.

"Life isn't fair." Harry seemed to think that ended the conversation but Draco wasn't ready to be quiet.

"Who was he?" Harry just shook his head and looked away. "Is he related to you? Did he know you before he 'took you in'?" Harry was stuck between clenching his fists in anger and wanting to crawl into a ball and hide from sight. "Was he-"

"STOP" Harry cried and Draco paused purely out of shock. Did Harry, the young and quiet boy, just raise his voice? "He's my uncle and I'm lucky he took me in! My parents are dead and I have no one and he kept me even though he already has a wife and a son to feed!" Harry looked away and stubbornly crossed his arms, the items around them forgotten. "I'm in no position to complain so if you would excuse me, I must be getting back to my chores."

Draco watched in desolation as Harry acted as if they weren't friends. He went back to cleaning and Draco wasn't sure what to do with himself. He didn't want to leave the boy but he couldn't very well stay when he so obviously didn't want company.

Just when he opened his mouth to apologize, Draco was cut off by a high-pitched squawk.

"POTTER!" _Potter?_

Harry jumped and shoved the last few items back onto their shelves and looked back at the blond. He tried to shove him away but Draco was distracted, staring at the small boy in shock.

_Did she just say Potter? As in Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived?_

Finally Draco was pushed into the bushes as a tall woman walked into the garage. "Potter, go make lunch for Dudley then clean up the kitchen and bathroom. Vernon's having guests over tonight and I won't have it ruined by your filth."

Draco just gaped. This was terrible: he knew the man was bad but the woman was just as awful. The blond didn't even want to look at their child Harry mentioned if he was raised by these two muggles. With a start, Draco realized Harry was following her back into the house without a single word. There were no objections to her insult – Harry simply accepted it and moved on.

Who had possibly let the savior grow up in these conditions?


	3. Of Chemicals and Freaks

Draco wasn't sure what made him do it. It might have been the yellowing bruises hinting that Harry's abuse isn't a recent development. Or it could have been the way his collarbone jutted out and his skin seemed stretched tight along his wrist. Maybe it was Draco's hearing an echo coming from a group of boys calling around about "Harry Hunting". Draco wasn't sure, but he needed to know.

That was repeated many times over in his head as he watched his parents look up from their eating in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" His mother, a beautiful witch with stern features but joyous eyes, was rarely caught off guard. This particular subject, however, seemed to throw her off.

"I said, what happened to Harry Potter after that night?" Draco knew they heard him correctly but he also knew they would try to skirt around the topic. So he used a somewhat harder tone (one he happily learned from his father) to show that he wished to know and it would be in everyone's best interest if they just told him.

Speaking of his father, the older Malfoy cleared his throat and made a show of setting his salad fork on his napkin. "What has quirked your curiosity?"

Draco refrained from pursing his lips and told the lie he had been working on. He wasn't sure how his parents would react to his new friend so he vowed to get their opinion of the "Boy-Who-Lived" first. "Everyone knows what he did, but no one reports to have seen him in years. Why is he in the shadows?"

Lucius Malfoy held in a smile at his son's inquisitiveness. He was truly pleased that Draco was more concerned with the light rather than the dark.

"It's true that no one has seen him since that Halloween. The Headmaster told Severus he was taking him somewhere he will, if I remember correctly, 'be loved for who he is'. This, I gather, means he is with muggles."

Draco couldn't help his mouth drop lightly. Somewhere he would be loved? Had Dumbledore even _met_ these muggles? He tried to hide his astonishment but his father caught on anyways.

"Draco," he began, narrowing his eyes considerably, "what do you know?" By this point, Narcissa too had stopped eating and looked upon the conversation questioningly.

The young boy debated the pros and cons before deciding that these were his _parents_ and that if he couldn't trust them, he couldn't trust anyone.

Draco went back to eating (not remembering when he stopped) and said in a casual manner, "I met Harry Potter the other day."

The reactions were rather funny and, had the conversation not been so important to Draco, he probably would have laughed. Instead, when his father's jaw popped and his mother's eyes widened comically, Draco just kept his eyes firmly on his food and waited for them to speak.

"You- you met- are you sure of this, Draco?" The young boy ignored the jab to his pride as his mother doubted him. He knew she just had to make sure but really! When had he ever lied about something as big as this?

"Yes, I'm positive. He has the Potter hair and the Evans eyes, though I'm not sure if I would call the muggles anything close to 'loving'." He muttered the last part but it didn't stop his parents from hearing it.

"Draco, dear, please explain." His mother now looked worried, a look Draco rarely saw on his family's faces.

Draco bit his lip and decided to tell his parents everything. Perhaps they could help him somehow? Maybe curse some sense into his relatives?

"Well, so here's the thing: the day you were whisked off by the Dark Dimbo, I decided to go for a walk…"

Harry hurt.

After he made Dudley lunch like his aunt told him to, he was locked into his cupboard and was ordered to keep quiet. Harry was used to this – it happened all the time. However, for once he wasn't as silent as usual.

Now, Harry had been occupying the broom cupboard under the stairs for as long as he could remember. There was no nook or cranny he didn't know by heart. So it surprised Harry when his tan hand was searching for his broken slinky and landed on a box stuffed behind the built-in cleaning supplies shelves.

Harry reared in surprise and, as a result, brought many cleaning bottles down to the floor with his as he fell. He knew he made quite the ruckus and the guests would be questioning it without a doubt. Harry also knew that there were currently at least 7 different cleaning products littering his skin and making it burn with pain.

So yeah, Harry hurt.

Harry heard his uncle laugh nervously and make an excuse about a poorly trained dog, but Harry couldn't bother to care. He just lay on the ground with chemicals covering his skin waiting, expecting, dreading… he knew he couldn't get up if he tried. His skin was _screaming_ as he blinked in and out of consciousness. What must have been roughly three hours later (though it switched between feeling like seconds and feeling like decades) Harry heard his relatives wishing the guests a safe trip home and the door shut softly. He heard the car start, then slowly drive away… and yes, there were the angry footsteps coming from Vernon Dursley.

"BOY!" Harry flinched as the cupboard door was flung open with a resounding _boom_ as it made contact with the wall. "WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? YOU SELFISH FREAK, I ALMOST LOST THAT DEAL BECAUSE OF YOU!" It was around this time that Vernon actual bothered to look at what happened and his face was a plum when the situation was seen.

"YOU SPILT THE CLEANING SUPPLIES?! THAT SHIT'S EXPENSIVE YOU KNOW!" Uncle Vernon stomped over to the raven-haired boy and pulled him to his feet and into the hallway. Harry was truly afraid now; his uncle rarely beat him personally – he usually just told Dudley to do it. So the fact that Uncle Vernon was raising his arm to deliver a blow was _terrifying._

"YOU-" a hit to the jaw "UNGRATEFUL-" a blow to the cheekbone "GOOD FOR-" Harry was slammed into the wall, where he promptly slipped to the ground in tears "NOTHING-" a rough kick to the stomach left Harry gasping for breath "_FREAK!_" With a final kick to the abdomen, the young boy collapsed and was shoved back into his room. Harry swore he had heard a rib snap completely in two. He certainly _felt_ it.

He wanted to die. He truly, completely, whole-heartedly wanted to die. And if he couldn't, a couple of months (read: years) in a coma couldn't be all that unsatisfying.

Harry shivered lightly. Why did he go through this? Shouldn't his guardians love him? Why didn't they treat him like family should? Harry knew why though, he just didn't want to accept it. Harry knew he got his parents killed. It was his fault they were dead. He's been told that so many times it's imprinted on his brain.

But Harry didn't understand – they didn't like his parents anyways. His Aunt Petunia was always shaming his mother and saying that she was a freak like him and she made a mistake marrying "the James boy". So if they really hated them so much, why did they hate Harry even more? Did they really only hate him for killing his parents? Why?

Was it really just another method of hurting the boy? Tossing insults like beanbags and making Harry realize he isn't wanted. His parents wanted him, but they're dead now and it was his fault so he didn't deserve them.

With that dreadful thought, Harry drifted into a restless sleep and could only hope he would wake up again in the morning.

It turns out, he did awake again in the morning (six-almost-seven-year-olds should _not_ contemplate whether that's a good thing or a bad thing). Not only did Harry wake up, however, he woke up to a cool sensation to his midsection. Harry bit back a sound of surprise; what felt so good?

He blearily forced his eyes open to see if it was true, if someone was finally taking care of him for once. A few seconds of scanning the room proved only that Harry was stupid enough to bother to think he was of any importance to _them_.

After getting upset with himself for getting his hopes up Harry remembered why he was curious. The cold sensation by his middle was relaxing and effortlessly put the boy at ease. But when he looked down, a shocking sight greeted him. There, where there should've been bruises and an indent of where the rib surely cracked, there was only pale skin and a slightly noticeable scar.

Harry was healed.

But how? That wasn't possible! Even Aunt Petunia's best medicine and the hospital ladies took _weeks_ to heal Dudley's broken arm!

Harry quickly reminded himself of his nickname – _freak_. He had done this to himself. He didn't know how, or why, but he had done it and it only stood to prove how different he was.

Uncle Vernon was right: no good _freak_.

That afternoon found Harry repainting the fence and setting up more plants to keep the neighbors from being nosy. It was tedious work, but he had to earn his keep somehow.

After Harry got over his shock earlier that morning, he inspected himself further. Unfortunately, the healing (he wanted to call it magic, but he knew how Uncle Vernon reacted to that word) only helped the rib and surrounding bruises. The skin around his eye was a deep purple and Harry couldn't open his mouth more than an inch before his jaw screamed in protest. His injuries stretching from as far back as a few months ago still remained and his abdomen throbbed when twisted a certain way.

Harry didn't want to be outside at the moment. The sun was intense and he knew sunburns wouldn't help his condition. Not to mention Harry hadn't eaten since he stole some lunch the day before and he was desperate from some food before he passed out.

But the real reason he longed for the indoors was he didn't want Draco to see his like this. Harry hated being vulnerable, it did nothing but cause problems. Harry was independent and he was going to stay that way. Depending on others make you weak. One day they won't be able to save you and you'll have no idea how to save yourself, then what?

But when Harry saw Draco the day before, he had seen something. It was most curious to Harry because he wasn't used to being cared for. But when Draco asked him about his relatives, Harry saw _care_ and _compassion_. He was scared of that, why does he care?

Harry was certain when Draco bought him the ice cream the first day that would be the last time he saw him. If Harry's own ability to send people running hadn't done the trick, he expected his uncle or his cousin to do it.

But then the blond showed up again the day after. He helped Harry (voluntarily!) when he didn't have to and showed actual _concern_ about the way he was treated. What was Harry supposed to gather from that? The thought alone was so foreign to him he had no idea of how to react to it.

As Harry contemplated (a fourth level word) his predicament (fifth level! His teachers would be so proud) he didn't notice the blond until he was right next to him.

"Hello there Harry" the raven-haired boy jumped and his paintbrush went clattering to the ground. He was barely able to stop from spinning and facing the voice he knew well. At the angle they were currently in Draco couldn't see his black eye – Harry would prefer to keep it that way.

Harry cleared his throat and tried to smile. Why was he here? Wasn't he going to stay away from his abnormality? Didn't he want to avoid the people Harry lived with? "Hello Draco" Harry tried to talk as fluently as he could, but his jaw was stubborn and he had to try to not draw suspicion to his face.

Draco frowned. What was wrong with the boy? He refused to even look this way. Draco was at least expecting to meet his eyes and give him a smile. What if Draco had been wrong about him? What if he didn't want a friend?

But Draco quickly dismissed the thought as he saw Harry shift closer to the taller boy unconsciously. He was probably just afraid, but of what?

After Draco discussed everything with his parents they told him it would be a good idea to keep an eye out for him. They didn't want the dreadful muggles to lay so much as a finger on him and they would do what they could to make sure they didn't for much longer.

"Why are you painting the fence? It's already white enough; you couldn't possibly make it look better than it does." Harry offered a small shrug.

"Honestly I was wondering the same thing. But it was on my list of chores this morning so I had to do it." Well now he was screwed. Halfway through the sentence Harry stumble on some words because his mouth wasn't open wide enough to speak properly. Harry just hoped Draco hadn't noticed…

"Harry? What's wrong with your face?" _Damn_, well that didn't work.

"Nothing, I just hurt my jaw this morning." With any luck, by 'face' Draco meant his mouth. There was still a chance he could simply not notice it…

"Harry?! Do you have a black eye?!" Double damn.


	4. Of Plans and Cupboards

This is my longest chapter yet :)

Just one thing to clear up...

**willythenilly**: No, I was planning on having Voldemort still alive and kicking in this to better fit my plot. However, my plans changed so I went back and change those moments in the past chapters so instead they were going to meetings with Death Eaters instead of Voldemort himself. Sorry for the confusion/irritation! And thank you :)

* * *

_Previously:_

"Harry? What's wrong with your face?" _Damn_, well that didn't work.

"Nothing, I just hurt my jaw this morning." With any luck, by 'face' Draco meant his mouth. There was still a chance he could simply not notice it…

"Harry?! Do you have a black eye?!" Double damn.

* * *

"W-what? N-no of course not, w-why would I have a b-black eye?" Draco didn't look fooled as Harry quickly slipped into his nervous demeanor. Harry brought his head closer to his chest and turned to avoid the blonde's gaze.

Harry saw a pale hand reach out and quickly grab his chin. He flinched away from it and tried to move away but Draco was persistent and eventually got a strong grip on the smaller boy.

As soon as Harry's chin was properly in his hand, Draco loosened his grip slightly and his touch became gentle as he turned his head to the right. The soon-to-be 7 year old frowned and shook his head at the large blue bruise surrounding the lower half of Harry's eye. It was maddening how the younger boy was treated in his own home. The fact that he was responsible for _saving the wizarding world_ only intensified the hate Draco felt for the large man and his horse-faced wife.

No matter how much the Malfoys seemed to lean towards the dark, they never actually want total chaos and destruction. The pure-blooded family was just assumed to be bad now. Even if they don't particularly like Albus Dumbledore (because there's just _something about that man_ that irks Draco's father) they still would prefer him to the late Voldemort.

Except Draco didn't think he was actually dead. While no one knew for sure, he had overheard his parents discussing it before. They seemed to think he was simply biding his time and waiting to see who his real supporters were. Of course, because of this, the Malfoys still had to keep quiet about the Dark Lord's plans because if he were to come back and realize that some of his most faithful servants turned their backs and spilled his secrets… well there would be hell to pay, for starters.

But "dark" or not, the Malfoys were not the kind of family to condone child abuse and what Harry's uncle does… well that's just wrong and there will certainly be repercussions.

"Have you iced this?" Draco asked and then winced. Of course he hadn't! From what he's seen, he'd be surprised if he was given a glass of water if he asked, so he definitely wouldn't be given frozen water that would just go to waste.

Sure enough, Harry shook his head pitifully but stopped as soon as he realized what he was doing. His head swiveled desperately as he looked towards his house. "But it's fine, of course." He babbled thoughtlessly as he seemed to say the first words that came to mind. "I don't need ice. I'm completely fine. It'll fade; I don't need to worry about it." His eyes never once left the home of his relatives. Draco saw why only a moment later when the door swung open to reveal who must've been Harry's cousin.

"Hey freak!" Draco's eyes narrowed immediately when he heard the baby whale speak. Was that a common insult to Harry? Was he called a freak every day? Then surely his relatives must know of magic and what Harry did for the wizarding world if they knew he was special. So why wasn't he treated better?

Harry internally groaned when he saw Dudley. He knew he was coming: the past few years of beatings hadn't been completely in vain. Harry was so used to the pattern of his relatives he could distinguish the sounds of their footsteps with ease. His ears were extremely good as well so while Draco probably didn't hear his cousin clomping down the stairs a minute ago, it was loud and clear to Harry.

It was around this time that Dudley saw the blonde standing next to his little cousin. He smirked and sauntered over to the stranger. "Who're you?" He asked bluntly, finding no need to push off the questions.

Harry watched Draco raise an elegant eyebrow before raking his eyes across the bigger boy's body. Harry mentally rolled his eyes as he sized up the bully. Harry wasn't sure what to feel. Was he about to lose the only friend he ever had? Or would he prove to be the person Harry's seen this far?

"I'm Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and Narcissa Druella Malfoy née Black, heir of the Malfoy fortune. And who, may I ask, are you?" Draco took obvious steps to intimidate Dudley but Harry could see the greed in his eyes and knew it failed to work. Dudley was just like his father in many ways. His love of money was only one of them.

"Hello Draco – may I call you Dray?" He didn't even pause for confirmation before he continued to speak. Harry knew what he was doing right away: Uncle Vernon spoke like this when he was trying to get deals from other companies. "It's lovely to meet you. My name is Dudley Dursley and my dad might have a few ideas you'd be interested in. Perhaps your dad and mine could meet sometime to discuss business?" Harry was grudgingly impressed. Dudley didn't do half bad, would that impress Draco too? Would he leave him for his larger and more powerful cousin like everyone else?

Draco was going over his options as quickly as he could. Should he just refuse this idiot right now? He could flat out reject his offer and have him gaping like a fish. But maybe that's not the smartest move. Maybe he could use this to his advantage? Draco decided he would need his parents' opinions before doing anything too drastic. He gave this _Dudley Dursley_ boy a smile he had difficulties delivering.

"Perhaps so, allow me to speak with my father about this tonight and I will visit again tomorrow." Dudley smiled in satisfaction and nodded quickly. Draco bid him farewell and began to walk away. The blond heard footsteps running to the door and Draco spun around when he was sure the boy had left. Harry alone stood by the fence, paintbrush forgotten in his lowered hand, biting furiously at his already swollen lip.

Draco grimaced. He knew talking to his cousin would make the boy feel betrayed but Draco didn't wish to lose the only friendship he had that didn't revolve around money. The older boy walked back to Harry and ducked a little so he was on the neighbor's lawn, hidden by the fence.

"Harry," he hissed and Harry's head snapped up. He leaned over the fence and caught the eye of Draco.

Draco sighed inside. Harry looked distraught and Draco knew it was his fault.

"Harry I'm not actually considering working with him, you know." Harry's head tilted the way a six-year-old's head should.

"You're not? Then why did you say you would?" Draco gave a small smile and motioned towards the paintbrush lying limply in the boy's palm.

"Maybe you should continue that, I don't want to get you in trouble." The _again_ wasn't spoken, but it was certainly implied. Harry flushed and dipped the brush into the glossy white paint. "My father has some… influence in matters. I don't like your family very much, Harry, so hopefully he'll be able to bring them down a notch or two." Draco was blunt but Harry appreciated that. He gave a quick smile as best as he could with his sore jaw and nodded.

"Okay, so I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Draco saw that he was nervous as he looked at the rest of the fence. He could tell he was behind so he took the not-so-subtle hint and nodded.

"Yes, tomorrow I'll be here with my father. We'll come when we can, but I suppose you should expect us around eleven o'clock." Harry smiled; it would give him something to look forward to.

"Goodbye, Draco"

"Until tomorrow, Harry." And he smiled and left.

* * *

Draco half ran, half crawled back to his home. He wasn't sure how his father would react to being spoken for but this was important to Draco, it simply _had_ to be done. When he reached the manor and the house elves let him in, he walked briskly to the sitting room in hopes that one or both of his parents would be there. To his great relief, he found his mother leaning against her husband on the sofa – both with a book in their hands and smiles gracing their faces.

"Hello, Draco, how was Harry today?" His father asked without ever raising his eyes. The young heir decided again to tell them everything.

"He looked awful, father. He had a huge bruise below one of his eyes and he could hardly move his jaw! And I don't know how he holds himself up… I don't know if he even noticed but he was swaying really badly. I doubt he ate any time recently." Draco sighed and shook his head. "He also has really bad bags under his eyes, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

At this, his parents looked up from their respective books. "Oh?" His father asked and Draco nodded before shifting uncomfortably.

"I, well, um-" Draco was cut off from further stuttering by his mother rolling her eyes and quirking her lips up.

"Spit it out, Draco; Malfoys do not stutter." She admonished slightly and he grinned, knowing she was making fun of her husband (not that he realized). The blond boy started again.

"I was talking to him when his whale of a cousi-"

"Draco-"

"Sorry, when his pig of a cou-"

"_Draco-_"

"Okay, okay! When his hippo of a-"

"What in Salazar's name is a _hippo?_" Draco laughed and shrugged as his mother cut him off for the third time.

"Some muggle animal I presume." Narcissa shook her head softly at her only son's antics.

"Anyways, you were talking to his cousin…" She trailed off, waiting for him to continue.

"Oh yeah, right, well so his name is Dudley – which is a ridiculously stupid name by the – yes, yes, I know – _Draco Lucius Malfoy, mind your manners –_ but come on, you have to admit that a name like _Dudley_ is a terrible, terrible name." By this point, even Draco's father was chuckling faintly.

"But so he came up to me and asked who I was – rather rudely, mind you – and so I told him my title and he got _the look_ on his face – you know, the one Goyle's dad gets when talking about stocks – and told me that his father might have a _few ideas you would be interested in_ – his words, not mine." Lucius was amused when Draco kept interrupting his own explanation with comments but he said nothing until his son finished.

"So what did you say?"

"Well, I told him I would speak with you about it. But really I just wanted to talk to you guys and figure out the best way to reject him. I don't like that family at all. What they do to Harry is awful." His dad nodded his head thoughtfully.

"Indeed. Which way do you think is the best way to approach this, my dear?" He asked his wife and Narcissa made a show of stroking her chin while she thought it over. Draco giggled endlessly at their display and the adults fought hard to keep their own broad grins off of their faces.

"Well, we _could_ talk with them and get them excited, just to refuse them in the end, but that's _much _too boring, wouldn't you agree, love?" Lucius smirked and nodded. Narcissa went on. "Or we _could_ just not show up, but I think Harry would be disappointed."

Draco's father took over after this. "Of course, darling, so what do you propose?" Lucius knew it was times like these that his wife's slytherin traits took over.

"We _could_ go to their home and flaunt our money and stocks. We _could_ criticize their home and their behavior. But still, that's much too juvenile for my mind. So Draco, dear, tell me what you think of _this_ plan..."

* * *

Dudley told his dad the minute he got home of what he managed to do.

Of course, Vernon Dursley was ecstatic. He marveled at the thought of making a deal with "the bloody _Malfoys_" who were apparently filthy rich and had a copious amount of influence. And Petunia Dursley figured that since they had money, the wife must be a snob but very informed. She was hoping for a new gossip buddy and she wanted new information to tell the neighbors.

They both wanted Dudley to become best friends with the son. _Draco,_ Harry thought to himself, _he has a name and it's Draco._

Harry wasn't sure if he was dreading the meeting or looking forward to it. Of course he wanted to see Draco and watch the Dursleys be rejected, but he wasn't sure who else was coming. Was it only Draco's dad? Was his mother coming too? Did he have any siblings? Would they love him? Would they hate him?

Harry fought a sigh and finished his dinner – half of a sandwich and what was left of the milk – and did the dishes quickly. Would they end up making a deal with his relatives anyways? Would they decide Harry wasn't good enough for their son? After all, there was a Malfoy _fortune_ and Harry was just a boy without parents or money or a future.

The night passed by slowly. Harry was so worried about losing his only friend it wasn't until well after the hallway clock chimed 1 o'clock that Harry fell asleep.

* * *

Draco couldn't have been more excited. He was going to see his friend and get the satisfaction of annoying the Dursleys. Now he just had to wait for his parents to be ready.

The boy woke up at seven that morning (much earlier than his usual 9:30 awakening) and rushed to get dressed. He looked for his best muggle clothes and pulled them on as fast as possible. Of course, once he saw what a mess he looked like, he ended up taking the clothes back off and getting a shower first.

But then he pulled his pale blue dress shirt pack on (they made his eyes seem more blue than usual) and tripped while trying to don his black slacks (_one leg at a time_ he reminded himself with an eye roll) and was down the steps for breakfast.

His mother figured they would offer food so she told Draco to eat lightly. He had a chocolate chip muffin from the pile that was always on the table and eyed the others undecidedly. After looking around for any witnesses, he ran and grabbed a napkin from the kitchen. When he got back to the dining room, he wrapped two of the muffins into the paper and slipped them into the bag his mother was bringing to give to Harry later.

After a while of waiting, the family decided it was time to leave and discussed how they would arrive. While they used some muggle materials, they certainly never used an automobile, nor did they want to. But that would've been the easiest way to make an impression. After much debating, they decided to apparate as close as they dared and then would cast a spell to make it _seem_ like they arrived by car.

And so, with one final excited bounce, Draco allowed his father to apparate him to about a street from Harry's house. Draco led the way, knowing the easiest way to make it there.

By the time they were on the Dursley's driveway, there was still about five minutes to waste. The Malfoys liked to be exactly on time, it improved their image. So Draco turned and reminded his parents (for the eighth time) of what he knew.

"Remember, I don't think he knows of magic so don't mention that. Also, anything we say directly towards him will probably make the walrus angry and he'll probably just take it out on Harry later. I wouldn't suggest asking the woman of anything relating to-" Draco would have continued if it weren't for the large crash coming from inside the house.

"YOU DAMN, NO GOOD, WASTE OF SPACE! GET BACK TO YOUR CUPBOARD BOY, AND DON'T EXPECT TO BE LET OUT BFORE THE WEEKEND!" Draco paled. He was kept in a _cupboard?_ It was only Tuesday! And the weekend could mean either Friday or Saturday! That's outrageous!

Apparently, his mother was thinking much of the same thing. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and she stared hatefully at the door. This ruined _everything._ Their whole plan was revolved around Harry being there! As the blond family heard a clock chime, Lucius stepped forward and knocked stiffly on the door.

"Oh, how I want to hex them already…" Draco heard his mother mumble and couldn't help nodding in agreement (it wasn't until later that he remembered he was six years old and didn't know an ounce of magic).

A tall, thin woman answered the door and Draco recognized her as _Aunt Petunia_. She was staring at her driveway bug-eyed and Draco reminded himself that she was probably seeing a really nice muggle automobile. With obvious effort, she looked away and towards the aristocratic family on her doorstep.

"Good morning, my name is Petunia Dursley. Please, do come in." She almost sounded pleasant, but Draco knew it was all an act.

"It's lovely to meet you Mrs. Dursley. My name is Lucius Malfoy, this is my wife, Narcissa," he motioned to Draco's mum, "and my son, Draco." He put it hand on Draco's shoulder and looked up at his father. He could tell the oldest Malfoy was still upset, but to the untrained eye he probably looked completely normal.

Draco almost frowned. The plan was to _not_ be hospitable. But the young boy saw his parents' eyes flicked and meet each other's and realized they just came up with a new, and probably better, plan.

The horse-faced woman moved away to bring them inside and Draco's mother spoke quickly into his ear.

"When I tell you to, make an excuse to go to the bathroom. Check all of the supply cupboards you can find and try to get to Harry. Make sure he's alright. We're going to do what we can from now on to get him away from this house. You need to publically become his friend, and then we'll be able to have him spend some time at the manor. Of course we would have to explain magic, but I'm not going to let the _savior_ grow up with no knowledge of what he's done."

Draco nodded quickly as they reached the living room and were introduced to the male Dursleys.

Draco's thoughts wandered as he waited for his mother's signals. He had the bag (with a small invisibility charm on it, so the muggles wouldn't notice it) in his hands with the materials for Harry. His mother added some objects to the bag. She didn't say what, but she told Draco he would recognize them and asked to explain them to Harry.

Draco heard his father's voice break him from his reverie.

"Draco told me there were two boys here yesterday; where's the other one, may I ask?" Vernon Dursley failed to hide a scowl.

"That was Petunia's nephew. He isn't here at the moment." He looked like he was going to refuse to say anything more about the subject so Narcissa locked eyes with her son and inclined her head marginally. Draco took his cue and turned to the female Dursley.

"Mrs. Dursley? May I ask where the restroom is located?" Petunia nodded.

"Well aren't you just the most adorable thing, and you have such manners! Just like my Dudley over here! The bathroom is through the kitchen there and straight into the hallway. It's the second door on the left." Draco hid a grimace and thanked her.

As he passed through the hallway, he opened every door he passed. He hoped one would end up having Harry, but he was having no such luck. As Draco walked pass the bathroom for the third time, he was going to flush the toilet and walk back to the sitting room to tell his mother that he was unsuccessful. But before he managed to do so, a small whimper distracted him.

Draco immediately perked up and walked back to the hallway. As he failed to find a cupboard again, he decided to call for his friend.

"Harry?" He whispered with no triumph. "Harry, where are you?" A noise sounded from Draco's right side and he walked towards it.

"Draco?"

The blond boy stopped. That was definitely Harry, but where the sound was from confused him. Was it from… the _stairs?_ Abruptly, however, he realized. There was a bloody _cupboard_ under the _stairs_.

With the stealth of a proper slytherin, Draco found the door and pulled slowly, hoping no sound would be made. The sight inside made his stomach clench.

"_Harry?_"


	5. Of Cuts and Cakes

Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the comments, you all are so incredibly sweet it's unreal! Here's chapter 5 :)

AVPMforever - Thank you for your concern, but I can't possibly write them as acting any younger! I'm partly basing their behavior off of my cousin, Madison, who is a few months _younger_ than Draco and Harry here and yet acts older. She's a few months away from turning seven but acts like a young woman and her vocabulary challenges mine. Honestly, she's a complete genius. But I've been spending time around Maddie's friends lately and they're all extremely smart and speak so clearly so I can't get myself to write them acting younger than they have been. And with Draco being expected to have manners and Harry having to grow up quickly... well, I can't change it :)

Enjoy! Expect another chapter out next Wednesday! Exams for the next two days then NO SCHOOL!

* * *

Last time:

_"Draco?"_

_The blond boy stopped. That was definitely Harry, but where the sound was from confused him. Was it from… the stairs? Abruptly, however, he realized. There was a bloody cupboard under the stairs._

_With the stealth of a proper slytherin, Draco found the door and pulled slowly, hoping no sound would be made. The sight inside made his stomach clench._

_"__Harry?"_

* * *

Draco didn't know what to do. He wasn't sure where to look. Should he begin by being appalled by how incredibly _tiny_ this room is? Draco dismissed the thought and instead went directly to Harry, who was staring at him in a mixture of fear and relief.

"What are you-" he was interrupted by an almost soundless (_that must've taken practice_ Draco thought grimly) coughing fit "-doing here? Shouldn't you be with-" this time, the coughs were louder so Harry smothered them with a sheet on his bed (_that's hardly a sheet_ Draco's eyes narrowed accusingly at the scrap of fabric Harry clung to like it was Merlin's finest robes) "-your parents?" The blonde shook his head.

"I came out to find you and give you a few things." Draco approached the bed (if one could call the lumpy mattress a bed) and saw for the first time the real damage.

Of course, the baggy clothes Harry wore usually shielded most of his body from view but Draco still could see blue spots marking the sunburnt skin. Now, however, Harry's shirt was thrown off and his damaged flesh was on full display. It looked as though Harry had taken a tumble down the stairs – though Draco knew that it wasn't likely that's what happened. But if it was, he also knew he probably didn't "fall" and it most likely happened more than once.

Then Draco saw the reason Harry's shirt was thrown aside. On his back left shoulder was an impossibly large burn – one that was easily identified as not being the result of the sun's rays. It was the shape of a half circle and had rings getting smaller as they approached the center. Draco nearly dropped the bag when he realized Harry must have been on the receiving end of a frying pan – a _pan_ – to have such a noticeable burn.

But the older boy had a different problem to worry about. That being the most apparent injury Harry had – the large cut that stretched from the tip of his left ear and ended on the underside of his chin. It was still dripping blood as Draco fumbled his bag open.

Harry looked at it in weary surprise, having not noticed Draco holding something before (of course, that was because of magic, but Harry wouldn't know that). He watched with drooping eyes as Draco pulled out a few vials and packages.

"When was the last time you ate?" Harry's head snapped up from where it had fallen onto his chest. He was tired and wanted to fall into peaceful sleep for once. But Harry couldn't do that with Draco there so he forced out a reply.

"Erm… snagged an apple this morning." Draco looked up from sifting through the bag in shock.

"_Snagged_ an apple? They won't even willingly give you an _apple_?" Harry looked nervous and Draco told himself to calm down. "So you didn't get any lunch? And no dinner?" Harry nodded timidly and Draco suppressed a sigh.

"Here," he said, giving Harry one of the packages in his arms. "Take this and eat it. They're just muffins, but at least it's something. Mum told me to give you these. The blue vial will help the pain. The green one should help the healing process. Take the red one the next time you miss a meal; it has vitamins and stuff in it." Draco wrinkled his nose. "They all taste bloody awful, but they work."

Harry stared at the objects in his hands. Why was he doing this? Isn't this the part where Draco runs away and never sees him again? Isn't this where he gives up on him or decides he's too much work? Why isn't that happening? Harry's lips struggled to form words.

"Thank you," he mumbled pathetically. "This is- these are- I mean-" he winced. "Thank you. A lot." Draco nodded.

"And find a way to bandage your cut if you can." He didn't know much else about healing, but he could take a few correct guesses. "It's deep so it'll probably scar. Sorry I don't have anything for you for that…" Draco trailed off and Harry shook his head harshly.

"You've done enough, too much maybe. I don't know how to repay you for these." Draco looked around awkwardly before moving on.

"Are you going to be outside any time soon?" He asked and Harry shook his head.

"They won't let me out until Friday at the earliest. But if you're planning on coming, I would wait until Sunday just in case." Draco nodded again and stood.

"I have to go but, uh, I'll see you Sunday, I guess." Both boys shifted awkwardly before Harry nodded.

"See you" Harry whispered and Draco crept back out the small door. Harry heard a toilet flush and voices in the distance. He smiled – a quick upturn of his lips – and opened the package. There sat two of the most beautiful muffins he's ever seen.

_Maybe, just maybe, things will be better now_.

* * *

The next few days passed quickly for Draco; he was dragged along to social dinners and was fawned over by rich ladies in satin. Still, no matter how many times his cheeks were pinched or he was talked about as if he wasn't there, he couldn't get his mind off of Harry.

He wondered if he had taken the potions like Draco told him to. Though, he was probably suspicious so it wouldn't surprise him if he didn't.

On Friday, Draco had to fight with himself to stay at the manor. He didn't want to walk all the way to Harry's house just to be disappointed that he wasn't out yet. But it was difficult to resist since there was still the chance that Harry had been let out early. Draco wanted to see him if that was the case.

Saturday evening found Draco staring into the fire lost in thought. Not for the first time that day, Draco's mind wandered to the green-eyed boy in the bad household. His mother had just left after going for into detail of their plan. The gist was that Draco had to befriend Harry and simply spend time with him. The only thing they were worried about was the visitors that often visited the Malfoy residence.

They figured it would be easy enough to explain magic to the young boy. After all, a young mind is much more willing to accept new ideas. The problem was that they weren't sure of his reaction to their position in the current magical world. Being a known Death Eater family who aided Voldemort in the last war would certainly make the boy fear or resent them.

Of course, they weren't loyal to them now – hell, they hardly ever were. They just like to win; in order to achieve that, they thought they needed to arise with the Dark Lord. After several meetings, however, they realized their mistake when they couldn't torture/kill the prisoners sent their way.

Would little Harry Potter hate them for that? Perhaps it was better not to tell him everything?

But there were common visits from DEs at random points throughout the days, so surely he would catch on? And if one of them _saw_ the Boy-Who-Lived…

The family wasn't sure what they were getting themselves into.

* * *

Saturday evening, after a supper Harry didn't attend, the young boy was let out of his room and told to do the dishes. Harry looked at the looming mountain of dirty plates and suppressed a groan. It was clear no one had touched them in days; there were at least three days' worth of dirty utensils and bowls.

Two very long hours later, Harry managed to take a piece of bread and two spoonfuls of corn before retreating to his bedroom.

Harry knew that with him being let out, the following day meant a load of chores that he would struggle to get through (but was that really any different than usual?). He was both excited for seeing Draco (because who doesn't want to see their only friend?) and he was nervous. The rational part of his brain told him that it was stupid to expect anything bad from him when he's been nothing but nice. Still…

In the morning, Harry was proven correct when his first chore was to clean the bathroom until it was spotless. Harry was distracted when he looked into the mirror. For the first time, he saw how bad his cut really was. He had taken Draco's advice and ripped one of Dudley's old shirts to wrap around his head at an attempt at stopping the blood from dripping out. Now that the blood wasn't dripping out, Harry could clearly see how deep the cut had gone.

He had a brief flashback of what caused the injury – Dudley had broken the vase of petunias in the hallway and Harry was blamed for it (as per usual). Uncle Vernon was mad, frighteningly so, and shoved Harry to the ground, conveniently right where a large piece of the vase was.

The cut started at the underside of his chin and stretched up until it nicked his ear and was an inch into his hair line. The skin was inflamed and tender and in danger of peeling off. Harry hoped Aunt Petunia would take pity of him and give him a bandage, though it didn't matter for it would surely leave an angry scar.

Harry lifted his shirt in an attempt to see his burn, but to no avail. Though from how it felt with cotton pressed against it, he knew it wouldn't looked pretty.

His chore didn't take long and by the time he was done, Dudley was demanding breakfast. Aunt Petunia barked a quick "make Duddykins some breakfast" before coddling her son with everything she had.

Several strips of too-crispy bacon and dry eggs later (not that Harry had any of it) he was send outside to plant the flowers his aunt had picked up from the store the day before. Harry tried to pay attention to his task –really, he did – but his anxiousness would result in him raising his head and looking around every few minutes.

Finally, at least forty-five minutes after he started on the plants, Harry saw a light blond head walking down the streets towards him. He couldn't help the wide smile that bloomed on his face before turning his back quickly. It was probably a little after 10 in the morning and Harry had been up for hours, just waiting to find out for sure if Draco really still liked him.

When finally Draco was only a house away, Harry looked up again and met his eye. Draco smiled brightly and raised his hand in a wave. Harry couldn't be more relieved and allowed himself to return the wave whole-heartedly.

"Good morning, Harry." Draco's voice sounded when he was but a few yards away.

"Hi Draco," was his reply as the younger boy stood and brushed off his hands. "How are you?"

"I'm well enough. My parents were home the past few days but left this morning. I was able to spend some time with them, which was great." Harry nodded and fought the sadness at not having parents to spend time with. Now was _not_ the time for a pity party. Another bag, much like the one Harry remembered seeing on Tuesday, caught his eye.

"What's in there?" He asked curiously before flushing. "Wait, no, never mind. You don't have to tell me." A moment of silence had Harry afraid he pushed too far until he heard a light laugh.

Draco dropped to the ground and opened the bag. In surprise, Harry sat down as well, trying desperately to hide his curiosity. Was it more medicine? Or maybe Draco had toys? No, that was stupid. Regardless of the small friendship they currently obtained, he doubted Draco would share his expensive toys with him.

"Did you eat breakfast?" He asked and Harry nodded absently.

"Toast," he said, "and water." Draco frowned slightly and pulled out an apple and some packages. He gave Harry a cloth he doused with water and motioned for him to wipe his hands off. Harry pretended not to notice Draco's eyes on his face, no doubt on his long, red scar.

"Eat this" he said, shoving the fruit into his now dirt-free hands. "And these; they're called Cauldron Cakes. They aren't a very… _common_ treat, so I doubt you've heard of them." Harry looked at the two cupcake-looking treats and smiled. He rarely ate anything with sugar in it and he couldn't wait to try them.

Harry obediently ate the apple first as he listened to Draco talk about his favorite foods. He realized that he should probably be jealous that the blond boy was treated as a prince, but he couldn't find it within himself to care. Draco was so nice and courteous; he deserved to be treated as royalty.

As Harry bit into one of the cakes, his eyes rolled back in bliss. Draco noticed this and snickered.

"You like those? Someday I'll have to bring you a butterbeer; those are heaven in a glass." Harry just waved him away and Draco smiled at the behavior. "Hey, don't you have chores to do? I really don't want to get you into trouble…"

Harry looked at where he was planting. He swallowed the rest of his first cake and shrugged at the blond. "I have to bring the rest of the flowers from the garage and plant them, but that's all for right now." Draco nodded and looked around. He stood and motioned towards the second treat.

"Eat your second cauldron and I'll bring the rest of the plants over." Harry's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"I can't let you do that!" The taller boy stuck his nose in the air.

"I can do whatever I want." He sniffed. "And I want to help you, so I will." Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief but didn't say another word against it. Draco walked to the garage and vanished. Moments later he reappeared with a plastic flowerpot in each hand. He was carefully avoiding getting dirt on his pristine shirt.

Harry wasn't sure how to react to any of this. Draco Malfoy was… interesting, different, wonderful. _A nice change_, Harry thought.

Only seconds after Harry finished his food and turned to Draco, he heard the impending footsteps. Harry looked up in surprise and turned towards his friend, ready to send him away. But Draco raised his hand and shook his head. Both boys looked up to see the tall woman open the front door.

"Potter, you ungrateful br-" Aunt Petunia stopped and stared at the blond boy in front of her. "Oh, hello dear, are you here to see my Dudley?" She took on an obnoxiously sweet voice as she bent to Draco's level.

"No ma'am," Draco's voice was polite, but his eyes were narrow and his teeth clenched tightly. "I was only talking to Harry." Petunia made a point not to look at _Potter_.

"Ah, yes, sorry if he was bothering you. Now, my little Duddey is just inside if you want to…" But Draco shook his head firmly.

"Thank you ma'am, but I'm really quite content with my position right now." It looked like the horse-faced woman planned on saying something so Draco was quick to speak. "As a matter of fact, I was wondering if Harry could come over sometime this week?" Aunt Petunia failed to hide her scowl and glared daggers at Harry. Draco, sensing this would bring pain to Harry, quickly added more on. "I have plenty of activities, and there's a pool we can go swimming in."

_Ah-ha! Gotchya!_ His 6-almost-7-year-old mind cried out in triumph. Swimming meant only swim trunks which meant they couldn't give him more bruises. _Draco Malfoy, you are a GENIUS!_ Harry looked over in excitement.

"Do'ya actually have a pool?" Draco stopped at this. Now that he thought about it; no. They didn't have a pool. Ahh, well, it can't be too difficult for his father to make one. He nodded and turned back to the frozen lady.

"Would that be alright with you, Mrs. Dursley? Wednesday, I'm thinking." Petunia only looked over and made an ugly noise of agreement.

"Hn? What? Oh, yeah, of course…" She turned on her heel and went back into the house, confused as to how the heir of the prestigious _Malfoys_ quirked an interest in the _freak_.

_Part 1 – complete _Draco laughed quietly to himself. He mentally staked claim on Harry. Harry was _his_ now. No one touches what's his.


	6. Of Magic and Band-Aids

Disclaimer: I don't own :'(

Thank you all for your reviews! Longest chapter so far! Over 4700 words! ^.^

Don't expect another chapter until next Wednesday, my grandmother's coming tomorrow which is why this is early, because I know I won't have much time to work on it over the week.

Previously:

_"Would that be alright with you, Mrs. Dursley? Wednesday, I'm thinking." Petunia only looked over and made an ugly noise of agreement._

_"Hn? What? Oh, yeah, of course…" She turned on her heel and went back into the house, confused as to how the heir of the prestigious Malfoys quirked an interest in the freak._

_Part 1 – complete Draco laughed quietly to himself. He mentally staked claim on Harry. Harry was his now. No one touches what's his._

* * *

CHAPTER 6

Wednesday couldn't come soon enough for little Harry. Dudley often had "playdates" with the Polkiss family but Harry had never gotten an invitation. He was excited and had to refrain from bouncing to the breakfast table the morning of. He was given a handful of dry cereal ("just for if they ask") and a new shirt from Dudley – this one only three sizes too big.

Harry was also sporting a blue drawstring bag with swim trunks and a dry pair of clothes for in case something should happen to the others. Harry had wanted to bring something as a "thank you for having me" but he didn't own anything special enough to gift.

He was upset about that and tried hard to find something for Draco. Harry remembered him saying at their first meeting that his birthday was the sixth; that was on Friday. But Harry wanted, no _needed_ to get something to give his first friend.

So Harry went to his aunt and asked her for some money, he could tell she wanted to impress the Malfoy family. Due to this, he gave him thirty pounds and told him to scat and find something good.

Harry walked to the nearest corner store and browsed the aisles. What should he get for a boy who he doesn't know anything about? He doesn't know his likes and dislikes so what if he got him something he hated? Harry looked around until he saw the bin of plush toys. With a new thought, Harry skipped over to see what they had.

To his great excitement, there was a silver dragon plush at the bottom of the pile. Examining it, Harry saw the wings and eyes had a pale blue tint to them, just like Draco's eyes. Harry giddily took it and a grow-your-own-crystal kit and went up to the cash register. After he set the two items down, he told the lady he would be right back and ran to the back of the store where he saw bags earlier.

The lady, an elderly woman who should've retired years ago, watched on with amusement. The store was empty and she had never seen the young boy there before. She saw as he came back holding a deep green bag, smiling with pride at finding it so easily.

But she was concerned. There was a deep gash on the side of his face which looked only days old. It didn't look to be bothering him until he tried to smile widely, which at that point, he stopped quickly. _Why isn't that wound covered?_ She asked herself, for surely his parents don't want it to get infected.

"Hello there young man," she greeted him and he gave a small but genuine smile.

"Hello, I'd like to buy these please." She nodded calmly but her mind was moving at greater speeds. _Didn't he go to the hospital for that? It looks bad now and must've looked worse when he got it. It should've gotten stiches._

"That's an impressive gash you have there." She continued and his hand went up to his cheek.

"Yes, um, I tripped and broke a vase. My aunt does say that I'm accident prone." He gave a laugh and she smiled back at him. There was definitely more going on than he gave away, anyone who cared to recognize the signs would be able to see that.

"Would you like a bandage for that?" His eyes widened.

"O-oh, I'm not supposed to spend any more money than I have, thank you though."

"Nonsense! You don't have to pay for it! Let me just grab one for you, okay sweetie?" Before he could answer, she was off through a door he didn't see before then.

Harry was nervous. She mentioned his cut, something that he hoped no one would do. Then she offered to get him something for it, which Aunt Petunia definitely wouldn't like. But on the other hand, the lady was so grandmotherly and he wanted to welcome the change.

She came back and motioned him towards her.

"Here," she said, "this is just a really big Band-Aid, only white and waterproof. Would you like me to put it on for you?" Once again, Harry was left with a dilemma. Should he refuse and throw it away so Aunt Petunia doesn't get mad? But he would hate to refuse this woman when she's been nothing but nice. Not to mention it would be helpful at Draco's pool since no water would get in. Mind made up, he nodded quickly.

She wet a washcloth in the backroom and wiped gently at Harry's cut before applying the bandage with tender fingers. She retrieved a hand mirror so Harry could see if it was alright. Harry looked at his face; it was dirty other than around the now-covered cut. If someone knew where to look, they could also see the slight discolorations around his eyes and cheekbones which hinted at past bruises.

Harry smiled and thanked the woman profusely; no one (besides Draco) had ever been so nice to him.

* * *

Meanwhile, Draco had indeed seen to getting a pool installed. An unused wing on the second floor was now the proud host of a large pool (permanently on a heating charm so the water never gets cold). It took a lot of magic and four people doing an hour-long _aguamenti _but oh well, sacrifices had to be made.

Draco left to walk to Harry's house. He didn't want him to get driven considering a piece of technology that large might set off the magical items.

When he got to Harry's street, he saw him talking to an angry Vernon Dursley. Frowning, Draco sped up.

"_What did you think you were doing taking our money and going off to buy useless junk_-"

"Please, Uncle Vernon, sir, Aunt Petunia gave me to money to get Draco a gift-"

"_Our Dudley shouldn't need to share the money he deserves with a brat like you_-"

"Please, you can ask Aunt Petunia-"

"_But you went off and bought something for yourself_-"

"No, the lady at the cash register gave me this-"

"_No good piece of_-"

"You can check, there's no bandage on the receipt-"

"_Then you stole it_-"

Draco decided Harry wasn't getting anywhere in the argument so he chose then to make himself known.

"Hello Harry, hello Mr. Dursley." Vernon stopped immediately.

"Oh hello Mr. Malfoy," Draco barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the man. He saw his greedy expression and knew what was coming next. "Has your daddy by chance said anything about making a deal with me?"

"Not yet Mr. Dursley, I'm sorry. My father is very careful about who he makes deals with so he takes a lot of time. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," a forced nod, "well what would you like then?" This time Draco couldn't resist the roll of his eyes so he looked away quickly to mask it.

"My home is very close so I've come to pick Harry up so we can walk there." Vernon's face turned a deep pink but he nodded anyways.

"Of course," he repeated. "Go on then bo-Harry." He leaned in close to his nephew and hissed in warning, "if you make us look bad you're in the cupboard for a week." Draco knew he wasn't supposed to hear that so he pretended not to have. He would be getting what he deserved soon anyways; it was just a matter of time.

With that, Vernon Dursley walked away and Draco looked Harry in full so see if he looked any better.

"Ah, so you got a bandage for your cut I see." Harry nodded.

"The woman at the cash register gave it to me for free, I think just out of pity but I didn't mind. She was awfully nice." Draco smiled at Harry and the smaller boy smiled back.

"Are you ready to go or are you missing anything?" Harry shook his head.

"I'm ready." Draco looked at what he was carrying. On his back was a blue bag that was surely filled with his personal belongings. In his hand was a dark green shiny gift bag – Draco knew what it was from the conversation he overheard. He couldn't help but feel surprise that Harry had remembered something he only mentioned in passing. His chest warmed significantly at that and Draco tried to rub it away.

None of Harry's bruises were visible (if there were any, perhaps they had healed by then?) but Draco could see the lingering redness of Harry's burn from where the shirt's collar couldn't hide it. He was sure that under the white bandage, his cut was still puffy and red. Draco felt bad for him, Harry was known to the wizarding world because of a small scar on his forehead but when everyone met him, they weren't going to be able to get past the long and jagged scar stretching from his ear to his chin.

Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, Draco turned back to the present. "What's in the bag?"

Harry looked up in surprise for he too was lost in thought. "Oh, um, I remember you saying it was your birthday on Friday and I wasn't sure I would see you then so I got it for you now…"

"You got me a gift?" Draco feigned surprise. Harry nodded bashfully and Draco mentally applauded his own acting skills. When he realized Harry was avoiding his eye, Draco bumped shoulders with him.

"Thank you" he said and Harry smiled in return.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy didn't know what to do. It would be so easy to just write an anonymous letter to the authorities or mention Harry's home life in passing and hope someone picks up on it. She wanted Harry to have a normal childhood and he wouldn't get it at the Dursley's.

But what if he didn't have anyone else to go to? Then he would be put into an orphanage or foster homes and he would never know normalcy… And what if Dumbledore had a reason for putting him there? No matter how much of a fool the Malfoys peg him as, wouldn't he do what's best for his precious savior?

But she couldn't let this abuse go on. That was for certain. Perhaps she should schedule a meeting with the headmaster?

* * *

In hindsight, Harry decided, he should've figured Draco would have a big house. I mean, he did say he was the heir to the Malfoy _fortune_ and if Aunt Petunia wanted to impress them, they must have a lot of money.

But he still didn't suspect the four story _mansion_ that came into view.

Draco was pulling him along, having grabbed his wrist at one point, and Harry wasn't given time to gape at the house –no, _manor_ – in front of him. They traveled closer until the building towered over him. The main entrance was a large archway with a dark brown door made of a wood Harry didn't recognize.

As Draco threw the door open, Harry decided there wasn't a more magnificent house in all of Britain (not that he would know, but there was no possible way there was anything better than the _heaven_ that was the Malfoy Manor).

Harry's head snapped from where it was gaping at the high ceilings to the staircase when he heard a voice.

"Hello Draco, darling," Harry stared at the woman standing at the bottom of the stairs: there was no possible way she was Draco's mother. She looked no older than twenty or twenty-one!

"Hello mother," Harry still refused to believe it. "May I introduce you to Harry Potter?" Draco pulled him towards his mother and he held out his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you madam" Harry was speaking unconsciously. The woman, a beautiful lady with blonde and black hair, grasped his hand and Harry fought the urge to kiss it. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to or not. Her hair was most interesting: the top of it was black, but the undersides were the same color as Draco's. Her eyes were gray – no, silver – and captivating in their own way.

"The pleasure is all mine, dear. Would you like anything to eat? Or some tea, perhaps?" Harry was going to pleasantly refuse, but Draco beat him to it.

"Actually, mother, I was thinking I could show him my room and then we could have some butterbeers, it that's alright?" Mrs. Malfoy smiled and nodded at her son.

"Very well. What time to you have to be home, Harry?"

"Um, before eight probably. But if you'd rather I leave earlier, that's fine too." The woman shook her head.

"We'll have you home by eight then." Harry barely got in a nod before Draco was dragging him to the staircase.

Narcissa frowned as she watched him go. _'But if you'd rather I leave earlier, that's fine too' who says that? Those damn muggles have him thinking he's not welcome here._ She was angry at herself because she hasn't done anything yet to help him.

She knew he needed to get out of there. She noticed the bandage on his face (not that one could miss it) and knew he must have a bad cut if he was supplied with something to cover it.

She also cast a discreet wandless diagnostic spell (having a grandmother who was a mediwitch comes in handy) and was appalled at its results. It only showed current injuries, but the burn on his back alone was enough to make her upset.

_Perhaps I should ask Severus for some burn salve? I doubt he would be keen on giving any to James Potter's son, but maybe if he met him…_ she pondered for a while until deciding to floo him after Harry left.

Meanwhile, Harry was in awe. Draco's bedroom was almost as large as his house! Well, not really, but it was easily larger than the largest room at the Dursley's. The bedspread was a deep blue and the walls were cream-colored. It was a nice change from the green and silver that Harry saw in every other room so far.

Draco didn't stop talking the whole time; he was rambling about his family and how his mother had two sisters and his father was an only child. He said how he wished he could have younger siblings but the nurses said Narcissa wouldn't be able to have more children. He spoke of his godfather: a man he called Uncle Severus who was strict but not unkind.

And Harry just walked with him and soaked up the words. Draco was happy, truly happy and content with his life. Harry couldn't remember every seeing someone so thrilled to talk of their family, of all things. Usually it was video games or friends or classes, but never family.

It was a nice change.

He sat next to Draco on a sofa when they made their way back downstairs to get their "butterbeers" (that sounded like alcohol but Harry didn't say anything). It was a comfortable room with different shades of brown and green making it simple.

Mrs. Malfoy came in a few moments later holding two glasses in her hands. That immediately made Draco stop talking and he straightened his posture. Harry unconsciously copied him and Narcissa hid a smile.

"Here you go, Draco. One butterbeer for you, and here's one for you, dear." The second one she gave to Harry and he accepted it graciously. It was a clear brown colored liquid and it was suspiciously bubbly at the top. He looked up and saw the two Malfoys watching him. He recoiled into himself to be as small as possible. Why were they watching him, did he do something wrong?

"What?" He asked feebly and Draco laughed.

"I'm waiting to see what your reaction is. Hurry up, then!" Harry slumped a little in relief. He was sure he had messed up somehow. With a small prayer to anyone who was listening, he hoped the drink wasn't poisoned and went to take a swig.

As soon as the liquid touched his tongue, Harry swore he was never drinking anything else every again.

The drink was sweet but not overly so and left a pleasant taste in his mouth. Harry let out a small humming noise and Draco smiled widely.

"I knew you'd like it. Everyone likes butterbeer! You'd be insane not to." Harry just nodded to him and took another sip, this time savoring it on his tongue before swallowing it. He didn't want to drink it too quickly so he set the glass on his thigh and turned to Draco when he began to talk again.

Draco started talking about how his Uncle Severus was teaching him basic math and vocabulary to be "better equipped for the future". Harry smiled at his enthusiasm and met Mrs. Malfoy's gaze. She pointedly looked at Draco and rolled her eyes and Harry laughed with her.

Draco looked playfully insulted and was going to speak up, probably in defense, but before he could manage a word, the fire in the stone fireplace turned a bright green. The flames themselves rose in height a good 10 or 12 inches and Harry yelped and jumped back to press his back far into the sofa.

Before he could recover or ask Draco what was going on, a voice came out of nowhere, leaving Harry looking around desperately to place a face with the voice.

"Narcissa? Might I have a word?"

Not seeing a face brought Harry back to memories of Dudley and his goonies sneaking up behind him to surprise him by shoving him to the ground and kicking him in the stomach. He cowered on the sofa and clutched a pillow he found desperately.

Narcissa Malfoy leapt from the couch and made her way towards the fire. "Draco, take Harry upstairs. We're going to have to explain things a little sooner than I planned." Draco came towards him and Harry tried to push him away but Draco was persistent and refused to let go. The younger boy only fought for a few moments before giving up and letting himself be dragged away.

Anyways, the further away from the fire the better.

Draco led him back up to his bedroom and sat him down on his bed.

"Harry? Harry, are you okay? I don't really know how to help you with this so you're just gonna have to snap out of it." Draco tried to get Harry to look at him but Harry's green eyes were empty and unseeing. The blond boy heard his door open so he looked behind him and saw his mother entering.

"Harry," she said quietly while moving to his side. "Draco's right next to you and I'm over here. It's just Draco and Narcissa, there's no reason to be scared." The young Malfoy watched as his mother talked to his friend as if he were a spooked kitten. But slowly, gradually, Harry moved and his eyes focused on the blondes.

"Sorry Mrs. Malfoy," he mumbled and the woman shook her head.

"Just call me Narcissa, dear. And you have nothing to apologize for. That wasn't your fault." Harry just nodded absentmindedly and Narcissa sighed.

"Why was the fire green?" He asked and Narcissa maneuvered herself so that she was on the bed.

"Harry, this is going to seem strange but you have to believe me, okay? And if you can't trust me enough to believe me, then trust Draco." Draco nodded in conformation. "Harry… have you ever considered magic?"

The change was immediate. Harry jerked backwards and pulled his knees up to his chest. His eyes took on a guarded expression and his face became emotionless.

"Did my uncle put you up to this?" He asked and Narcissa was taken aback.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he says there's no such thing as magic. He gets real mad if I mention it." Draco was mad at the big man who thought he could keep magic away from Harry Potter. He had no doubt that he'd performed accidental magic before, so maybe that's why he had that reaction?

"Harry, have you ever done something that seems magical?" That was Draco and Harry's eyes flickered to him for a moment before focusing on a dot on the wall.

"No"

"Harry-"

"No, there's no such thing as magic."

Narcissa decided she had enough of this. She pulled out her wand, ignored Harry's surprised gasp, and said "_Accio_ butterbeers".

A minute later, two butterbeers were in her hands and Harry was rethinking everything he knew.

"Uncle Vernon says magic isn't real. One time I turned my teacher's hair blue and he got really mad at me." Draco laughed at the thought but Narcissa silenced him with a look.

"That's called accidental magic, Harry. It happens when you don't yet have control of your magic. Have you ever done anything else?"

"I was running and ended up on my school roof, but I'd rather not talk about that." The female Malfoy could hear his warning and sensed that the reason he didn't want to talk about it was what happened afterwards. For surely, a man who hates magic wouldn't want his nephew to be walking around telling everyone of the tricks he could do.

"There are a lot of people who can do what you do Harry. There's a whole community filled with magic-users." Harry looked up dubiously.

"Really?" He asked and she nodded.

"I knew your parents." She said softly and his eyes widened.

"My parents?" He breathed and she nodded.

"James Potter and Lily Evans were the best wizard and witch at Hogwarts when I was there." Harry's eyes were wide with wonder and Narcissa was glad that he seemed more accepting of magic.

"What's Hogwarts?" He asked. "It doesn't sound familiar."

"Hogwarts it a magical school; it's where your parents went and where myself and Lucius went and it's where you and Draco will go." Harry looked over at his friend with excitement; they were going to go to school together!

Harry cleared his throat. "You wouldn't possibly have any pictures of them, would you?" Narcissa gave a sad smile and shook her head.

"I was two years ahead of them, so we didn't converse enough to become friends." When she saw Harry's face fall, she couldn't help but add something on that would raise his spirits again. "But Draco's godfather Severus was one of Lily's best friends while growing up. Perhaps you could ask him one day to show you some pictures of her."

Harry smiled. This whole time he thought his parents were worthless drunks who died in a car wreck-

"Wait, does that mean my parents didn't die from a car crash?" Harry asked, hoping with all of his might that his relatives lied about that too. He wanted to remember his parents as people who were good. Narcissa looked scandalized and Draco just looked shocked.

"A car crash?" She parroted and Harry flushed. "They would never die from a _car crash_, of all things! They would have enough problems just trying to get James to even step foot into a car. We magical folk don't use technology like you do, you see. Your mother did because she was muggleborn but your father was a pureblood and wasn't familiar with automobiles, so he certainly wouldn't be around one."

Harry heard her use words like "muggleborn" and "pureblood" and filed those away to ask about later. "So if they didn't die that way, how did they?" At this, Narcissa looked away awkwardly.

"The magical world is… not perfect, Harry. We have wars just like you do. At the time you were born, there was an important war going on where a man, most people don't say his name in fear it will make him appear, was trying to kill muggles: those are non-magical persons. I'm not going to say his name either, but for my own reasons. Draco can tell you his name later if you insist on hearing it." Harry nodded and Narcissa wasn't sure how to continue.

"Your parents were really good people." Draco took ever here, seeing as he didn't think his mother could. He had heard this story enough times that he could probably tell it in his sleep. "They were firmly on the good, or "light", side of the war. The man didn't like that so he attacked your house Halloween night."

"Your parents shouldn't have been able to be found, Harry, but they were. So he found you that night and he murdered them using the illegal killing curse. Then, he supposedly turned his wand on you and tried to kill you."

"But he couldn't," Draco chimed back in. Understandably, that was his favorite part of the story. "No one knows why, but you're famous in this world as the only person who has ever survived the killing curse."

"My parents were murdered?" He ask, dazed. "I'm _famous_?" Draco nodded.

"Isn't it cool?" He asked but Harry became uncomfortable. Narcissa noticed this and moved away from him.

"What's wrong dear?" She asked and Harry shook his head.

"It's nothing," he mumbled. "It's just my… thoughts."

"Harry, if it's bothering you, then it's not nothing." Harry turned back to the butterbeer he forgot was on his lap and took a sip. The liquid warmed his insides and helped him calm down.

"It's just…" he hesitated before he seemed to grab all of the courage he had and forced it into his next question. "Are you only helping me because I'm famous?" The then quickly recoiled and looked as if he was waiting to be hit. Narcissa sighed and was preparing to speak when her son cut her off.

"Of course not! I liked you before I knew who you were! And we're helping you because I like you and you're my friend!" Harry gave him a smile and nodded.

"Okay," he mumbled and Narcissa took this chance to move on.

"Why don't you boys go in the pool, yeah? Your father will get here around five, Draco, and dinner will be at six. I'll send a house elf to get you." Draco nodded to show that he understood but Harry just looked confused.

"What's a house elf?" He asked and Draco shook his head.

"C'mon, put your suit on. I'll tell you at the pool." Harry accepted this as an answer and they got ready for their afternoon together.


	7. Of Pools and Confessions

Hello! Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately.

* * *

Chapter 7

"So it's not slavery because they like it that way?" Draco had just finished telling Harry about house elves when they reached the pool.

"Exactly, they like to clean and cook, it makes them feel important. Most people are really nice to the house elves since they're nice to us. But my father is sometimes mean to them. He gets angry really fast. But mother is trying to get him to stop. Her best friend was one of her house elves growing up so she treats them good." Harry nodded at his explanation.

"Then it's okay" he decided. "Draco…" he hesitated. "What was the bad man's name?" He asked, deciding that it was better to find out now rather than hear it later and not know what people are talking about. They stepped into the pool and Harry marveled at how warm the water was. It soothed the aches in his bones from their past breaks.

Draco shivered a little and Harry wondered about it. "Most people fear the name, like mum said, but our family is different. Harry, you have to understand… the Malfoys have been labelled since they first came around. To the public we are, um, _dark_, I suppose. Everyone thinks we worship evil." He looked up to catch Harry's reaction.

Harry flinched back. Was he befriending someone who wanted to kill him?

"But we aren't! Dark, that is. Well, my grandparents are, er, were." Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Are you gonna give me to the man?" He asked. Draco looked confused until his eyes widened and he suddenly understood.

"We forgot to tell you the end of the story! Harry, you destroyed Voldemort! That's the man's name, by the way." Harry frowned when he heard the name. It seemed almost… familiar.

"I destroyed him? How?"

"Well, no one's really sure about that. And my family doesn't think he's actually gone. All we know is that he isn't here right now to control us."

"Control you? So you _are_ on his side?"

"No! No, he just, um, _thinks_ that we are…"

"You're pretending to be on his side?" Now Harry was just confused. Why wouldn't Draco just spit it out and stop stalling?

Draco swooshed the water near him in circles. Harry hardly noticed they were in eight feet of water; he was too busy trying to comprehend everything. How was he able to stay afloat? He hadn't ever swum before so shouldn't he be drowning now? He decided to just peg it with _magic_ and moved on.

"My parents joined him because they wanted to win." Draco decided to tell him. He didn't fully understand what he was saying himself. His parents have told him the same words so many times he just believes them now.

"Win what?"

"The war"

"Oh"

"Yeah, they thought joining the dark would make them powerful. And it would've, but then you defeated Voldemort – my parents call him the Dark Lord because that's what they're supposed to call him. I'm only telling you that so you don't get confused. But anyways, after they joined they realized their mistake when they couldn't kill people like they were supposed to." Draco looked oddly calm while mentioning this and frankly, it creeped Harry out.

"Did they leave?"

"No, apparently it isn't that easy to just "leave", so they faked respect and found other ways to go against him. For example, they left anonymous notes that helped the light side of the war know of Voldemort's plans. My uncle tried to do that to – he's actually a spy though for Dumbledore. The only problem was Voldemort trusted my father more than Uncle Severus so my father found out more."

Harry's head was spinning. Dumbledore? Spies? Evil? He wasn't sure what to think.

"If he comes back, are you ever gonna give me to Voldemort?" He was more specific this time.

Draco looked confused again. "No."

"Are your parents?"

"No..." What?

"Is your uncle?"

"No?" This one was a question. Where was Harry going with this?

"Then whatever." He said and splashed Draco with the water. Draco spluttered and looked at Harry in shock before snapping out of it.

"Ohhh you're in for it now!"

* * *

"But Severus-"

"_No_, Narcissa."

"Please, just see what he's like-"

"I said no. I don't hate myself enough require association with the son of James Potter."

"And Lily Evans."

"That just makes it worse. All that does is remind me that they had a child together."

"It doesn't have to be today. Just come over someday and talk to him in passing, please-"

"Who does he look like?"

"Pardon?"

"Who is his appearance resembling?"

"Well, he's a splitting image of his father-"

"Then no."

"But he has Lily's eyes!"

"Narcissa-"

"_Please_, Severus. I think the child needs someone who was close to his family. You're the best option."

"I'll think about it. And _no,_ that is not a confirmation."

* * *

It was a little before five o'clock when the boys stepped out of the pool. Their fingers were prunes and Harry was laughing in pure joy.

"C'mon Harry" Draco urged as the tiptoed upstairs. They were supposed to get out a half hour earlier but Draco convinced Harry to not pay attention to the time for a while. Now they were trying to make their way back to Draco's room, leaving puddles of water the whole way, without being seen.

"Dracooo-" Harry giggled as he tripped and clutched Draco's shoulders to stay upright, resulting in both of them slipping to the ground. "Oops! Sorry!" But the blond just laughed and pulled himself off of the floor.

"My father with be here any minute! We have to be dressed by then." Draco tried to be serious for once, but Harry's hair distracted him. "Oh Merlin, your hair!" He cried with laughter and Harry pouted.

"What's wrong with my hair?" His hands flew up to try to pat it down.

"It's completely flat on one side and there's a piece sticking up right… here!" Draco laughed again as Harry's hair refused to stay tame. They both froze as they heard Draco's mum greet someone in the room they were standing near.

"Lucius! How was work?" The boys shared a glance before running quietly the rest of the way to Draco's room.

"Whew!" Draco exclaimed and Harry nodded in agreement with the implied 'that was close'. The younger boy walked over to his pile of clothes on Draco's bed. "You can change in the bathroom if you want." The blond said as he made his way to his closet (it was more of an additional room just filled with clothes but if he wanted to call it a closet then that was fine too).

Harry nodded and they both changed back into their clothes before meeting near Draco's bed.

"Oh!" Harry said in surprise when he saw a green bag on the floor. "I forgot about your gifts!" He picked up the bag and gave it to Draco.

Draco paused and thought about how long they had until they should go downstairs. "I'll open them now." He decided and Harry grinned.

Draco leaned into the bag and pulled out something soft. His eyes lit up when he saw the dragon plush toy that was so unlike the others he had.

"The color matches your eyes" Harry informed him and Draco smiled gratefully at him.

"Hmm… now what should I name you?" He asked the toy and tried desperately to think of something. "Oh! Hang on a second" He said to Harry as he leapt up and ran to his desk. He pulled out a book and flipped through it.

"Aha! Aeternum!" He turned to Harry and smiled. "It means 'everlasting' in Latin." Draco walked back to the bed and looked at the dragon plush. "I'm going to call you Aeternum." He informed it. "You'll just go by Num for short." Harry smiled but motioned back towards the bag. Draco smiled and pulled out a large rectangular box. "Hmm… what's this?" He asked as he examined the pictures on it.

"It's a grow-your-own-crystals kit. My cousin had one but messed it up." He bit his lip. "It's okay if you don't like it; I just thought it looked cool." Harry assured his friend, hoping the gift was enough.

Draco smiled and shook his head. "I think it's great." He said with a smile and Harry grinned at him. Draco went to pick up the empty bag but something small and shiny caught his eye. "What's this?" He asked Harry and picked it up. It was a small feather that was mostly green other than the silver near the tip and center. Even though Draco first described it as shiny, the feather had more of a metallic glint to it.

Harry was quick to explain. "Well, uh, I was walking home from the store and there was a small bird and it was stuck in a fence so I helped it get free and there was a feather stuck in the metal and I don't know, it was a really pretty bird and I kept the feather because I thought that maybe you would like it." He said all of that in one breath and Draco just looked on, amused.

"Do you know how we write in the magical world?" He asked, not expecting an answer. He kept talking before Harry could give one, anyways. "With quills and ink." He laughed and put the feather next to the crystal kit. "I could either use this as a quill or just keep it for myself. Thank you." Harry smiled and would've spoken but a _pop_ interrupted him.

"Mistress Malfoy wants Master Draco and Master Draco's friend to come downstairs." The house elf informed them and Harry eyed the creature with interest.

"Thank you Pippy, we will be right down." Draco said back and the elf nodded before popping away.

"That was a house elf?" Harry clarified and Draco nodded.

"She's one of our less used ones. I wonder why they didn't use Dobby." He mused as he made his way to the door. "Come on, mum probably wants to introduce you to father."

Harry shifted uncomfortably but Draco failed to notice. "Will he like me?"

Draco looked over with furrowed eyebrows. "Of course he'll like you. Mother and I do so he'll at least pretend like you to make us happy." Harry frowned.

"You know, that's not very reassuring." To Harry's surprise, Draco laughed.

"I don't aim to be reassuring. But don't worry, you'll be fine." Draco gave him a smile and grabbed his wrist, pulling him out of the room and towards the stairs. "Father just wants to keep mother and me safe. So as long as you don't hurt us, he'll like you." But what if he hurt them on accident?

They reached the large doors that led to where Harry assumed they were meeting Mr. Malfoy. Draco opened the doors and Harry took a breath before looking around the room. It was large and had pale green walls and Narcissa on a black sofa. Harry saw who must have been Draco's dad sitting on a matching black armchair.

"Father" Draco greeted as he made his way to sit next to his mother on the sofa.

"Draco, how was your day?"

"Good, we went in the pool." Harry watched as Draco's eyes lit up in excitement. Does he not go into the pool often?

"Yes? And I suspect everything went well?" Draco nodded in confirmation. "Very good then," the man turned towards Harry. "And you're Harry Potter, I presume?"

"Yes, sir." Harry practically had to force himself to speak. This man was intimidating! Mr. Malfoy studied him for a minute before holding out his hand.

"Lucius Malfoy, just call me Lucius." Harry felt an odd kind of relief. Did he just accept him or did he actually _accept_ him? He took the man's hand and went along with the shake.

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir." Harry said and Mr. Malfoy – _Lucius_ – loosened up and gave him a smile.

"Likewise" Harry let himself smile before they were interrupted by a restless Draco.

"What's for dinner?" He asked and Narcissa smiled.

"Whatever you'd like; the elves are cooking today." Draco grinned and looked at Harry.

"Whadaya want for dinner?" He asked and the younger boy smiled again. Draco had so many different sides: he was formal during greetings but was so open now and when they were in his bedroom. He was caring but didn't need to be. He chose to be Harry's friend over Dudley's. It was just so nice and Harry never wanted it to stop.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, "I don't usually eat much for dinner." He realized his mistake too late. That was too much! They already learned about how Harry gets hurt. Really it was his own fault thought – if he just tried harder he wouldn't need punishments. But low amounts of food? Did they know that he rarely ate the equivalent of a meal most days? "I have a very small appetite." He tried to fix his mistake. That's what Aunt Petunia said to the school which was why he got away with half of a sandwich for lunch.

He saw Narcissa narrow her eyes and he hid a wince. Uncle Vernon was going to kill him! "Harry," she started in a strained voice. "How often do you miss meals?" Harry blanched – _missed_ meals? She wasn't supposed to know about that!

"No I-I don't-you have it all wrong-it's not like I _miss_ meals-"

"Harry, I'm not stupid." That made him stop.

"I never said you were" He tried to defend himself feebly. _Damn it_ first he gets caught then the truth comes out and now he _insulted_ Mrs. Malfoy? Maybe he should just tell the truth? _No,_ he thought, _that would look like I want the attention._ So perhaps he would just extend the truth a little? "Every couple of days I'll mess up so I miss a meal." He said. Surely he wouldn't get in trouble for that?

Narcissa sighed and clenched her eyes shut. She pinched the bridge of her nose (something she shamelessly picked up from Severus) and when she spoke, she was calmer. "That's wonderful, Harry." She said and Harry looked at her, confused. What was wonderful? "Now tell me the _truth_ and not some story you made up. I don't understand why you're protecting your relatives."

Harry sighed and shook his head. She didn't want to know the truth. From everything he's noticed so far, Narcissa Malfoy was extremely caring and wouldn't want to see him only getting a meal a day – if that.

"I rarely eat breakfast." He whispered before he knew what he was doing. He looked to the ground to escape their gazes. Well then, the truth it is. "Maybe some toast on a good day. I never get lunch during the summer. I get lunch during the school year though. A whole sandwich if I'm lucky." He spared a bitter smile at that comment.

He shuffled his feet. How did he explain dinner? "I get dinner if I'm good. If I'm mean to Dudley I don't get dinner. If I make too much noise I don't get dinner. But I'm good at avoiding them so they can't take away dinner as much as they'd like to."

Narcissa had her hand over her mouth. It was worse than she thought! "So you don't get breakfast, don't get lunch, and might get dinner if your relatives are feeling particularly generous that day?"

Harry nodded; she just summed it up in a sentence. "I steal food from the fridge sometimes though. If there are a lot of strawberries, for example, I'll take one or two because she won't notice." Narcissa laid her forehead on her hand. _This poor boy,_ she thought, _this poor, poor boy_.

"Harry, you're too young to be missing that many meals. It's not healthy. From now on, we're going to be giving you some food that won't go bad, okay?" Harry shook his head.

"Please, Mrs. Malfoy, I can't let you do that. You've done enough already. To take food from you would be too much. I wouldn't ever be able to repay you for it." Harry felt anxiousness creep into his chest. He liked this family a lot, he did, but they made it impossible to be invisible. That was how he got by at the Dursleys: if he was overlooked, then he wasn't bothered. But the Malfoys refuse to ignore his problems and as a result, Harry was vulnerable. Since they know his life and his problems, they could be used against him.

Of course, he wanted to believe that Draco would never use something against him but people can be deceiving. So he couldn't be completely dependent on the Malfoys because someday they could just decide he wasn't good enough and they could cut him off. Then what would he do?

Narcissa cut off his thoughts when she huffed angrily. Then, when she realized how undignified she was acting, she stood straighter and put on her best mother face: the "don't question my decisions" look.

"No," she said firmly. "You will eat regularly and we will provide you with an open invitation to come here when you're in trouble. This will be more a home than the horrid house with your relatives ever was. We will tend to your injuries and find a way to get you out of that place. And you _will not question me on this_."

Harry was stunned. He wasn't sure the exact reasoning behind his being shocked. Was it because she used a tone he hadn't yet heard? Was it because she was expressing an interest in his wellbeing? Was it because, no matter how worthless he knew he was, she still cared?

Harry wasn't sure but he saw that Narcissa was waiting for an answer so he broke himself out of his daze and voiced his agreement. Thinking back he wouldn't be able to recall what he said, but does it really matter?

* * *

A/N now I need your help! What should happen? How should I portray Dumbledore? What should I do with the Dursleys? How should Severus react to him? Thank you!


	8. Of Sickness and Snape

Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine

Usually I update on Wednesdays but I decided to give you another update a day before! Why? Because IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Chapter 8

* * *

Two weeks later saw a happy pair of boys swimming in a large pool once again. Harry had come over three more times after the very first day and they swam every opportunity. The Malfoys had a fun time explaining magic, they didn't realize it was such a strange concept to grasp for muggles. Draco and Harry were closer together and Narcissa was thrilled she had another boy she could treat.

True to his word, Severus Snape thought a lot about meeting the raven-haired boy, before completely dismissing the idea. No matter what Narcissa said, he was a Potter and sure to be soaking up the attention. Whenever he heard that Harry would be coming over, he would huff and leave for his home, the whole time muttering about "insolent little boys".

When he heard that Narcissa and Lucius would be leaving for a two week vacation in Rome, he immediately sneered.

"Severus," the female Malfoy started condescendingly. "You need to grow up and move past your childish feud. We are going to need you here to take care of Draco and if he wants to see Harry, I expect you to let him. He's nothing like his father and his life isn't as great as you presume. You should try to get to know him before you judge him." Narcissa prepared herself for the scoff of disbelief and wasn't disappointed. She hadn't explained what happens to Harry at his own home because she thought that if Severus were to realize himself, maybe he would create a stable relationship between them.

"Of course Narcissa, and while I'm at it I should also donate to charity and find the cure to lycanthropy and associate myself with muggles. I should, but I won't." She sighed and shook her head.

"Draco! Your father and I are leaving!" She called out to her only son while moving to join her husband in the main room. They would be using the floo to travel to the expensive hotel they would be staying at in while in Rome. She heard a yell in reply and waited for Draco to show up. A minute and a half later, the youngest Malfoy was smiling as he walked into the room.

"Hello Uncle Severus." He greeted the tall man who stood in the corner. He gave what barely passed as a smile in return and nodded his head. Draco looked up at his parents. "Have fun, mother, father. I'll see you in two weeks."

Narcissa bend down to Draco's height and gave him a smile while ruffling his hair. His indignant '_hey!_' made her laugh. "Oh, my little dragon, be good to your Uncle Severus. Or rather," she looked up to the man who had yet to remove himself from his corner. "Your uncle better be good to you. Draco, I give you full permission to step on his toes if he's being insufferable." Severus's noise of outrage was louder than the young blond boy's and made the family laugh in amusement.

Narcissa straightened and gave another smile before they were gone and Severus and Draco were alone. Draco looked to his temporary guardian and spoke.

"Can I go see Harry?" He asked and Severus just looked at him in shock.

"It's not even eight o'clock in the morning!" Draco shook his head.

"Oh well, he'll be awake anyways. His aunt wakes him up at six-thirty every morning." He looked proud at knowing something his godfather didn't. "Anyways, can I go?" The black-haired man shook his head.

"No, there will be no going to visit the precious Boy Wonder for the next two weeks." Draco's mouth slid open.

"What? But he's my best friend. And didn't mother tell you to let me?" Severus sneered. How did he know that?

"Don't talk back to me Draco. Go find a book to read. Breakfast will be at nine o'clock. I expect you to be there." Draco narrowed his eyes at his godfather. He was never this rude, what happened? The blond chose not to give Severus a response and instead angrily left the room.

* * *

Harry had never been so happy. He thought he was the happiest he could get when he got a _friend_. An actual friend who would listen to him and brought him food and let him swim in his pool… He thought Draco was the best thing that happened to him. Until he met Draco's parents and suddenly Harry had a whole _family_. Not a biologic one, sure, but a family nevertheless.

He was currently making breakfast for his relatives and looking forward to the day ahead. Uncle Vernon marched in and made a mug of coffee (apparently the tea wasn't strong enough to lessen his bitter personality) before collapsing in a chair. A gruff "hurry up, boy" was grumbled and Harry rushed to plate the scrambled eggs he had come to perfect.

He took a piece of toast (which was his breakfast every day until the Malfoy heir decides to "stop pitying the freak") and went outside. It was approximately eight-thirty and Harry knew Draco never showed up later than nine in the morning. So Harry sat down on the front steps and waited for his only friend to relieve him from his relatives.

He waited for 15 minutes, which turned into 30, which turned into an hour, and Draco stilled failed to show. Harry began to worry even though it was stupid to do such a thing. He was probably sick or had other plans he wasn't aware of… But what if that wasn't the case? It was idiotic, but Harry kept thinking, _what if he finally realized? What if he finally realized I wasn't worth the effort?_ But he couldn't think like that and told himself he would sit out there all day if he had to.

And he did.

* * *

"But Uncle Severus, I have to go-"

"Draco, stop that infernal whining this moment!"

"It's been four days! What if he thinks something happened? What if he thinks I ditched him?"

"Then that's too bad, now get out of my study."

"If you won't _let_ me go, then I'll just have to _find a way_."

"Draconis Lucius Malfoy, don't you _dare_ step out of these wards."

"_But I have to go_-"

"No. You don't. Now shut up before I ground you."

* * *

Vernon Dursley snorted in disgust when he left for the afternoon shift of work and saw the freak there for the fourth day in a row. "Petunia needs to see you in the kitchen, now!" He demanded and Harry nodded and stood, wiping his cheeks for stray tears in the process.

It had happened. Harry had been forgotten. He tried to stop the tears, but it was just so difficult. The one person Harry wanted so badly to be friends with but he didn't want him…

Harry made his way to the kitchen and found his aunt there writing on a piece of paper. "The ladies from the book club are coming over tonight and I'm making pies. I don't need your filth contaminating them." She said to him with the same amount of malice as always. "Get these items from the store. Be back in an hour or no more breakfast."

Harry looked at the list and money in his hand with no small amount of amazement. He had never been given so much control before. _They must really want me out of the house_, he mused. _If only I could tell Draco this_. That made him stop and his thoughts turned dreary. The blond boy had yet to make an appearance and Vernon and Petunia noticed. Harry knew that if he remained a no-show for a few more days, life would revert to back how it was before the Malfoys.

Harry left the house and started walking to the store. He was probably supposed to go the other way towards the grocery store, but he knew he could also get the ingredients from the corner store, which he liked better. Harry sniffed and rubbed his nose, but it had nothing to do with the earlier tears. He was sure he was coming down with a cold but knew from experience not to tell the Dursley's.

When he got to the store, it was a different lady than when he got Draco's gifts. She didn't look at him when he walked in but did when he went up to the counter and asked for a tissue. She gave him one and Harry went around the aisles looking for the ingredients needed. He decided he liked this new chore and hoped he would have to do it more often.

He picked up the ingredients and paid for them with his uncle's given money. He made polite conversation with the cashier but tried to avoid the topic of why he was doing the shopping. By the time he was almost home, his head began to pound and it hurt to swallow. He opened the door of the house and saw his aunt in the kitchen.

"I have the ingredients, Aunt Petunia." Harry spoke hoarsely. She looked up and her lip pulled back at the sight of him.

"Put them on the counter and go to your cupboard. I don't need you getting Dudders sick." Harry bit back a sigh and nodded – this meant no lunch.

Why did this have to go wrong? His life was great the past two weeks! Draco, where did you go?

* * *

"Can I go now?"

"No. I need to go to Diagon Alley. If I hear that you've left this house I will personally use a sticking charm to stick you to the ceiling."

* * *

Harry woke up and realized that it had been a week since he saw Draco. Seven full days and now he was just waiting for the first strike to hit. Uncle Vernon hadn't hurt him yet, but Harry could tell it wouldn't be long until he did.

His head was painfully pounding in his ears and his eyesight would blur from time to time. Harry was so cold he was shivering, but as soon as he walked into the sun he was obnoxiously hot. He wished Draco was there. Maybe he would have a potion that would help make him better quicker. But he groaned and told himself to _stop thinking about Draco_ and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

That was so stupid. He's _sick_ and he's still supposed to make food for everyone. That's going to make people sick!

And sure enough, not ten minutes later Harry heard his uncle stomp out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen.

"BOY!" He yelled and Harry flinched. "You got Pet sick! We TAKE YOU IN and we FEED YOU and we CLOTHE YOU and this is what you do in thanks?" He stormed over and took Harry by the ear, causing him to drop the pan he was holding and it cluttered against the stove. The grease that was in the pan splashed onto Harry's arm as he was dragged away to his cupboard. Uncle Vernon threw Harry into the small room, purposely making him slam into the doorway first.

Harry cried out in pain as he collapsed on the floor, his still-healing cheek smashed into the wood and Uncle Vernon kicked him in the side. "YOU AREN'T COMING OUT 'TIL WE LET YOU!" He yelled and left Harry alone to regret his existence.

* * *

Draco pouted. He knew he was a Malfoy so he wasn't supposed to pout, but he disregarded that fact and pouted anyways. Snape (he refused to call him Uncle Severus until he goes back to acting like his uncle) didn't let him leave the manor so Draco was stuck there as days passed. He didn't want to go into the pool without Harry and he was bored with the six kid books he had so he couldn't read. Usually Snape would read to him if he asked but Draco refused to ask him for anything other than "can I go?"

Snape was using the two weeks to take advantage of the Malfoy potion supplies which far outranked his own. Even if he was a potion master, he didn't have enough money to buy the most expensive ingredients; ones Lucius Malfoy had an excessive amount of. Draco could hear the explosions going off as Snape tried to tweak a faulty potion he created but didn't react to them. He was lying on a couch, bored out of his mind, waiting for something interesting to happen.

Draco listened as Snape's footsteps came closer until they were in the main room with him. "Draco, I need you to take me to a muggle store to get bandages. I'm all out and the potion backfired so my magic is too weak to conjure any." The house elves refuse to do anything for Snape anymore because he's the reason they don't get to see 'Master Draco's Great Friend Harry Potter!'

"Can we visit Harry?" Snape scoffed.

"Absolutely not, now take me to the nearest store." Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes and decided to take him to the store. One way or another he was going to have to go; he figured he should go before he burnt out his energy and patience fighting.

Draco was really worried about Harry. It was now ten days since his mother and father left for Rome and Draco could only imagine what was happening to Harry in his own home.

"Don't even think about running off to find the precious boy. He's no doubt currently relaxing in his home as his relatives cater to his every need."

"You don't understand. I don't know why mother won't tell you, but his life isn't all dandelions and sunshine."

"It is close enough that I don't trouble myself with the specifics" was his godfather's reply.

They walked down the sidewalk to the nearest store, which was a corner store about halfway between Draco's house and Harry's. If he was asked, Draco wouldn't bother to lie about how he was seriously considering running to Harry's house to make sure he was okay.

They finally made it inside the store and Snape began towards the medical department and Draco walked around near the toys. He was alternating between thinking insults about his godfather and thinking criticisms about the toys when he saw a shock of familiar black hair.

* * *

Harry groaned.

It was now 10 days (give or take a day, Harry couldn't be certain) since he last saw Draco. Aunt Petunia had refrained from giving Harry too many chores simply because she didn't want him out of his cupboard to get everyone else sick.

His head still hurt and his stomach felt queasy and his throat burned but he wasn't allowed any kind of medicine to make him feel better. But when Aunt Petunia took medicine, she was better after 24 hours.

Harry got up to go to the bathroom (they left his door unlocked in case he felt the need to throw up, he could do it in the bathroom instead of on his cupboard floor). Uncle Vernon was in the downstairs bathroom so he went to the upstairs one in hopes it would be empty. Sure enough, it was and Harry went in to relieve himself before leaving again.

Unfortunately though, as Harry made his way to the stairs, Dudley decided it would be a good time to hurt his cousin. He ran up behind Harry and pushed his shoulder in an attempt to throw him down the stairs to the bottom. In a desperate attempt to save himself, Harry grabbed Dudley's arm and pulled him with him. He knew immediately it was a bad idea as they both fell down the stairs and onto the carpet below. Harry heard a crack – actually, he heard a few – and felt a searing pain in his left ankle and shoulder.

Dudley began to scream and his parents came running.

"YOU FREAK! YOU GOD DAMN FREAK, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Uncle Vernon started to scream and Aunt Petunia's eyes looked murderous.

"You're no good, just like your parents." She hissed and shoved him towards the door. "Take the 10 pounds by the door and go buy pain medicine for when we come back. We're taking Dudders to the hospital, now _get out_." Harry hurried to comply.

His ankle was killing him and if it wasn't broken it was definitely a very bad sprain. His shoulder felt out of place – _dislocated,_ he thought to himself. He remembered a boy named Kenny from school had a dislocated shoulder once and that was how he described it. He limped his way down the street and watched his relatives go the opposite way in the car towards the hospital.

At this point, the tears began to pour down his face. The pain was agonizing and it hurt everywhere. His ankle and shoulder were recent, but his ribs also hurt from when Uncle Vernon kicked him. His chest hurt from when Dudley punched it the day before. His head and stomach and throat all still burned and Harry couldn't focus on his walking. He kept tilting to the side and was afraid of collapsing. His arms had the grease burns from three days ago and his cheek was still bothering him.

Add that on to the emotional pain and Harry felt like death itself.

He made it to the store and was going over to the medicine section when he got distracted by a comfortable looking body-sized pillow and made his way over there instead. He leaned against it and was drifting in and out of consciousness when he heard someone approaching. He stood up quickly and began to fall over as he heard a familiar voice.

"Harry!" It cried and he questioned his sanity when The Voice matched a face in his head. _Draco?_ He thought but dismissed the idea immediately. Draco doesn't care about him anymore, he accepted that. As he finally fell back to the ground, Harry felt arms circle around his waist. "Uncle Severus!" The Voice cried out and Harry couldn't deny it – that was definitely Draco. Who else had an Uncle Severus?

Severus Snape heard his godson's voice and mentally groaned. What could he possibly need so desperately for him to yell in the middle of a muggle store? He went to search for Draco and found him next to a collapsed muggle boy. "Draco, what is this?" He asked in confusion and his godson looked up at him with teary eyes.

"This is Harry, Uncle Severus. He's really hurt and I need you to help him." Severus looked at the small boy in amazement. This was Harry Potter? This small, bruised, dirty, stick-of-a-boy is Harry Potter – the bane of his existence? He tried not to let the sight get to him, for surely there was a reason he looked so beat-up.

"What happened to him?" He demanded while looking around to make sure no one was around. When he was sure the surrounding aisles were empty, he cast a quick disillusion charm so that no one would see the three wizards. He quickly began casting diagnostic spells and felt Harry's forehead for a temperature.

Draco sniffed and shook his head. "I don't know!" He wailed, eyes never leaving the small boy in front of him. "Harry! Harry, can you hear me? What happened?" The raven-haired boy moaned in pain and twisted his body away from the hands.

"Hurts" he gasped.

"Where?" This was Severus as his small amount of medical training kicked in.

"Everywhere" he bit his lip before shaking his head. "Ankle. Shoulder. Head hurts a lot." He muttered pitifully. Severus moved to those places and found out what was wrong.

"His shoulder popped out of its socket and his ankle is broken. He also has a bad case of the flu. I need to take him back to the manor where the potions are. I'm going to apparate him and then you." He informed Draco before disappearing with a small _pop_. A moment later Severus was back and grabbed the blond boy before he left with him too.

They reappeared on the lawn of the Malfoy Manor and eldest wizard grabbed Harry and made his way towards the door in large strides. Draco followed quickly, desperate to not leave his friend alone again.

Severus set Harry down on the first cushioned surface he could find: a sofa in the main room. He raised his wand and began summoning potions. "Draco, make sure he's awake. I need him to take some potions before he loses consciousness." Draco dutifully did his job and nodded at his godfather.

"You need to stay awake for me, okay Harry? I'm sorry I haven't been there lately, my parents were away and it wasn't safe to leave the manor." Severus frowned at that. He deliberately stopped the blond boy from seeing his best friend but now he's protecting him?

"Thought… you… gave… up" Harry gasped out. Severus gave him pain relieving potions to swallow.

"You thought I gave up on you?" Draco asked, wanting to know if he interpreted the words correctly. Harry nodded and continued.

"Uncle did too…" Draco didn't need any clarifying on this – he knew it clearly gave away the reason he was in such a bad state. He watched as his godfather gave Harry more potions for various reasons: fever reducing, nutrition, throat numbing, and the likes.

"Oh Harry, I'm so, so sorry." Harry smiled and shook his head.

"My fault… pushed Dudley… down stairs." Draco tilted his head.

"You did?" He asked and, despite the pain he must be in, Harry chuckled.

"No… just took him with me." Draco was relieved that he seemed to be getting better with help from the potions.

"So did he push you?" He asked and Harry nodded but didn't seem to have the strength to reply. His eyes were blinking rapidly in the attempt to stay awake.

"You can go to sleep now Mr. Potter." A voice said and both boys looked over to the older man. Harry didn't bother to reply and instead shut his eyes and went to sleep immediately. Severus looked over at his godson. "It seems as though you've forgotten to mention some topics I would deem as of importance."

* * *

A/N soooo Harry met Severus! Kind of. What should the pairing be for this story? I originally had it set to be HarryxDraco but now I'm rethinking it. What would you guys like to see? And if I choose to put Harry with someone else, who should I put Dray with? Bye :) xx


	9. Of Panic and Warnings

Sorry this one is so short. It's really just Snape's view of everything. I didn't get to write much this past week so I wrote majority of this in the past two hours, but I really wanted to get it out for you guys. I hope it's at least somewhat enjoyable :)

Disclaimer: when will this ever be mine?

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Chapter 9

Severus wasn't sure what he was feeling – was it pity? Was it concern? Was it regret? All he knew was that there was currently the supposed savior on the sofa in front of him and he wasn't sure how to react.

Severus always hated James Potter. Of course, how could he not? James was just a rotten bully to Severus and it would make sense to him that the traits were passed down to the next generation. Then again, if his godson claimed that his friend Harry – not _Harry Potter_, just Harry – was nice and couldn't insult someone if his life depended on it, he probably should have listened.

But his childhood nemesis had a son and he was _right there_ so why didn't he hate him? He was fully prepared for an arrogant child but instead he was handed a beaten boy. Did the fates hate him? Or did they find his discomfort and remorse amusing?

Potter looked awful, he realized. He knew it when he first put him on the couch but now that he was examining more than just a dislocated shoulder, he realized just how bad off he was. While there's a black mark on Severus's arm, Harry had burns adorning his. And there was so much evidence pointing towards years of abuse and it was _sickening_. But Merlin, the long cut on his face drew attention immediately. Severus was worried about it for a moment until Draco said he was relieved because it wasn't affected and told him that it had been so much worse.

Severus realized to some degree what this feeling was: understanding. He understood what Potter – _no, Harry_ – had gone through and sympathized with him. He didn't pity him, but he was empathetic. The fact that the poor kid looked to have no memories of a loving home was appalling.

The older man retrieved more potions that would help the young boy and turned to his godson. "Draco," he began, "I need you to call a house elf for me." Draco nodded and called for Dobby.

"Master Draco calls for Dobby, sir?" The strange elf spoke after he appeared noiselessly.

"Uncle Severus needs you." Draco said absently while staring at Harry. Dobby turned to Severus.

"Master Draco's Uncle Severus calls for Dobby?" He asked and the man nodded.

"Dobby, I need you to get me a rag soaked in cool water and a blanket." Dobby disappeared only to return moments later.

"Here yous go, Master Draco's Unc-" Severus, annoyed with the long title, cut him off sharply.

"Thank you Dobby." He bit out. Snape turned to Draco. "Draco, keep this rag on Harry's forehead. His case of the flu is remarkably bad and I need his temperature to stay down."

Draco nodded and leaned over his friend as he placed the rag on his forehead. Severus was surprised; his godson was never this gentle and quiet. He realized that he probably should have noticed the care earlier (before Harry ended up this bad, preferably).

"Draco, I'm very," Severus made a face as he tried to force out his words. No matter how much he loved his godson, his pride was something he never wanted to lose. Now he was practically giving it away. "I'm very sorry, I suppose, that I let this happen." He sneered and nodded. That would do.

Draco nodded again (he was doing that a lot) but didn't show any indication of hearing his godfather. Severus ignored that and told himself that he apologized and that was enough. They both jumped when they heard a pained moan and the lump on the sofa twisted and took up a fight with the blanket on him.

"Ge' off" he mumbled lazily. "Ge' off, too hot." But he couldn't push the blanket off of him and the movements became desperate. "No, no, get off, please, go away." Severus, who had simply watching so far, quickly helped to remove the blanket from the young boy. He was shivering but the professor was more worried about panic attack than anything.

Draco shook Harry's shoulder before speaking to him. "Harry, wake up! Are you okay? Come on, wake _up._" Harry startled away and looked at the blond boy.

"Draco?" He asked and Draco hummed his confirmation.

"Are you okay?" Severus held back a snort at that. Why was that always the immediate question? Did the boy even know if he was okay? Severus wasn't sure if Harry even knew his current condition.

Harry looked around carefully, as if expecting someone to be lurking in the corner, waiting to catch him at something. "I'm fine…" he whispered, distracted. But he soon gave a small jump and looked at his friend. "I need to get back to the Dursley's!" He cried out and tried to scramble out of bed. Draco had a hard time trying to keep him still and shot a glare towards his godfather, who was watching the ordeal but refrained from assisting. "Oh no, oh no, I didn't get the medicine they wanted. Do I still have the money? Shoot, they're gonna think I took it and ran. Oh no. Oh no, no, no…" Harry mumbled to himself for a while longer and Draco managed to place him back on the sofa.

"Harry! Pay attention to me! Uncle Severus told me you were really hurt. You can't go back to them if all they're going to do is hurt you more!" But Harry just shook his head.

"Better to go back while I still can. It's either I go back now and hope it doesn't hurt or go back later and get hurt and risk being thrown out in to the streets." Harry's eyes widened and Severus wondered how a six-year-old kid knew he could potentially be tossed out and forgotten. "Where would I go? Oh no, I really have to get back. How long has it been since the store?"

"I don't know, an hour? I think? How long were they expecting you gone?"

"Hmm, one hour… they shouldn't be home yet, I don't think. If I go now, I might get there before they're back from the hospital. But then again…" Draco and Severus exchanged a look. Draco was thinking that he didn't want him anywhere near those muggles; Severus was thinking that there was no way Harry was well enough to go back.

"Mr. Potter," Severus spoke and Harry looked up at him, apparently just noticing another person was in the room.

"That's my Uncle Severus." Harry heard Draco whisper loudly. "He looks scary but I promise he isn't." Harry thought back to before he lost consciousness earlier and could faintly remember seeing him.

"Why is it that your relatives are in the hospital but they didn't take you with them?" Severus was sure that by now he knew the answer, but he needed confirmation.

Harry looked at the man and tried not to shutter. He was terrifying with his height and black robes. "U-um, sir, I think my cousin had a broken arm, that's what it sounded like, at least, and it was bad so they needed to go."

"That's understandable. But it didn't answer my question. Why aren't _you_ at the hospital?"

"Because, uh, I wasn't hurt as bad as Dudley, sir." It was a clear lie, but Harry didn't look like he was going to be modifying it. Severus shook his head.

"Very well. Would keeping you here only make it worse?" He asked and Harry could tell he knew it wasn't all about broken arms and medicine. It went much deeper than that.

"Yes, sir. I really need to get back." Severus nodded.

"If you would prefer it, I could apparate you back into the store to cut down some time for you." Harry looked up.

"Is that what you did to get me here?" Severus nodded. Harry looked away as a light pink covered his cheeks. "Could you? Please?" He asked in a small voice.

Severus nodded again and Harry exchanged goodbyes with Draco after the blond promised to go to his house the next day. Severus wrapped his hand around Harry's arm, ignoring the flinch in response, and apparate him to the store.

* * *

Severus was screwed. Not only did he now feel responsible for a young boy's injuries, but soon he was going to have Narcissa attacking him. He watched as Harry walked out of the store and in the direction of the house and Severus couldn't stop himself from following. Narcissa and Lucius would be back in four days and the potion master found himself dreading what Narcissa would do to him.

But what was he thinking keeping the two boys apart? Draco had never had a friend besides the ones he knew because his parents. He and Blaise Zabini were exceptionally close but Draco wasn't asking to spend time with _him _all week, so shouldn't that have clued him in at all?

But no, he chose to ignore it simply because he couldn't bear the thought of his childhood enemy's son being friends with the boy he considered his own son.

Severus continued to follow Harry to his house under a disillusion charm. He was confused when he saw Harry toying with the bag (also disillusioned) that held his potions and moved closer. As he did so, Harry pulled out a healing potion (he remembered Draco's voice from that day in his cupboard: _"the blue vial will help the pain. The green one should help the healing process. Take the red one the next time you miss a meal; it has vitamins and stuff in it"_) and quickly downed it, only grimacing slightly at the taste. That was followed by a quick "just in case".

Severus was worried about that. No happy child took a healing potion "just in case". The only children he knew that did were those in abusive households, and he knew that because it was what he told them to do. He was often the first person to notice something was off in those situations so he would find a way to get the kids the main potions and tell them when to take them.

He was the one teacher to those students who they knew cared. If the other teachers ever found out, they gave them sympathy and less troubles, but only Professor Snape as known for helpful potions and words of wisdom. Only he did everything he could to get them out of the abusive houses.

So why did he let this go on? Looking back, the signs were _right there_. But he let it go. Why? Because he had some of the same blood as an immature kid from school? That was a stupid reason and not one he'd like to rely on. If everything Draco said over the past week had truth in it – such as the "I hope Harry had lunch today" and the "I hope he's not playing Harry Hunting" – then the boy's life isn't at all what he thought.

* * *

Harry's breath quickened in panic as the house came into view and there was a car in the driveway. He had taken a healing potion in case they were back already and now he was glad that he did. He had kept his worry from Draco but secretly knew that nothing good could happen by coming back here.

Harry approached the dark door cautiously and raised his hand, knocking three swift times on the wood before stepping back. He scanned the street nervously with his eyes. Maybe someone would see him? He always hoped that someone could catch on and save him, but it never happened. Were they oblivious?

The door opening reclaimed Harry's attention and he stared up at his uncle. His face was a deep red-violet and his jaw was clenched tight. By the absence of loud wails, Harry assumed that Dudley and Aunt Petunia were still at the hospital.

"Get in here boy" Uncle Vernon seethed and Harry nodded jerkily. He tentatively hand the bag with the medicine and extra money in it to his uncle but it was thrown across the room. The big man seemed impatient and grabbed Harry by his collar, pulling him roughly inside the house and slamming the door shut.

He threw Harry down onto the floor and glared at him from above. "You god damn, worthless _freak_! How _dare_ you hurt Dudley?! He is BETTER and SMARTER than you could EVER be!" Vernon kicked Harry in the stomach and Harry curled up, happy he had taken the potion when he did. "You're just JEALOUS of him and for that you THREW HIM DOWN THE GOD DAMN STAIRS!" He aimed another kick towards the small boy with the raven locks.

* * *

Severus was appalled. As soon as the man started talking, he had looked into Harry's mind to watch what really happened. It was so incredibly obvious that Harry was pushed it wasn't possible to blame it on him. The fact that these worthless muggles were deliberately hurting a child was what set Severus off the edge.

And then, Severus watched as he kicked him. For no good reason! Of course, there was _no_ good reason for kicking a child, but especially not one who had done nothing wrong! So as the foot went towards Harry for the second time, Severus went into action.

He pulled his wand out and cast a quick invisible shield towards Harry so that the foot would bounce back. The fat muggle was thrown off balance and landed in a daze on the floor. After a moment he climbed back up and glared harder at Harry, hate filling his eyes. "YOU FREAK! WHAT DID YOU DO?!" He roared and Severus made himself known.

"Hello Mr. Dursley." He said coolly and the man stopped and looked at the man who seemed to just appear out of nowhere. "Fine day we're having, is it not?" Harry looked up from his place on the ground and his eyes widened. Was someone finally sticking up for him?

Vernon, on the other hand, was filled with a cold fear. He looked at the man and his outfit: a thick black dress-like thing. He knew immediately what he was dealing with. "Get out of my house, you freak!" He bellowed and became nervous when all the man did was look at him and give a creepy smile.

"Mr. Vernon Dursley, husband of Petunia Dursley, father of Dudley, employee at Grunnings," he looked at him sharply. "Oh yes, Grunnings. Do you think the law would allow you to continue working there knowing you actively abuse a poor child?" Vernon's eyes widened and he shook his head pitifully.

"N-no, they don't have to know. They wouldn't believe you anyways. That thing's a delinquent, everyone knows it." He looked proud and Severus figured that everyone believing that was partly Dursley's doing.

"They _will_ believe me, Dursley. But it is not important right now. Unfortunately, you must remain the guardian of the child. So here is what is going to happen: you will not lay a hand on him. We are watching you, Dursley, and we don't take kindly to you hurting him. And you will feed him. Harry is not a toy for your son to abuse and needs more than one meal a day." Severus looked Dursley up and down and his face turned into a sneer. "I trust you could spare more than a piece of bread for the boy. Merlin only knows how much food you're ingesting that you don't need."

Vernon looked angry again so Severus finished. "You are going to tell your wife about out little… _agreement_ we just made-"

"That's not an agreement! I'm not getting anything out of this-"

"You're getting to keep your _life_, Dursley." Severus cut in with a snarl. "Now I'm taking the boy with me for a few days. When he returns he will be treated as a _human_ not a _punching bag_." He returned his face to a neutral expression and helped Harry off of the floor, where he had remained during the entirety of the conversation.

"It's been a pleasure, Mr. Dursley." He said and then the two freaks were gone.


	10. Of Pancakes and Concern

Hey :) next chapter is here, I hope it isn't too disappointing :(

It took me forever to write the first thousand words. Now I'm at a it of a bump. What should happen next? If I can;t think of anything, I'll probably just have the Malfoys come back next chapter.

Disclaimer: not mine

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Chapter 10

Harry sat at the smaller, less formal dinner table with Draco on his left side and Severus across from him. After the older wizard took him away from the Dursleys and apparated them to the manor, Harry was immediately set back on the couch and examinations started all over again.

The kick to his stomach was lucky to have done nothing. If his aim was even an inch off, Harry could have had to deal with cracked ribs and internal bleeding. Draco talked nonstop while Harry was being checked over and the raven-haired boy smiled at the familiarity of the blond boy.

Severus was being quiet, which Harry was beginning to realize was normal for him. As Harry was speaking with Draco (meaning listening to him ramble while throwing in the occasional 'yes', 'no', and the ever-thoughtful 'hmm') the tall professor tended to fade away and make his presence less known. Harry wasn't sure whether he preferred this or not. He was thankful that he wasn't ignoring him while at the same time he wasn't being over-bearing. It was the perfect mix of just being _there_ for in case he's needed.

Harry tuned into the conversation – not realizing that he'd tuned out until now – and listened to Draco rant about some game he had never heard of.

"-nobody could find the snitch and there wasn't a single glimpse of it for three whole hours and everyone thought it had somehow just gotten away since snitches usually mess around with the players but it was just gone! But then Aidan Lynch – he's the seeker on Ireland's team – saw it and grabbed it in less than ten seconds! It was unbelievable! They still didn't win the game though because even though Lynch is great the rest of his team is awful-"

Harry just smiled and nodded to show that he understood, even though he didn't. At all. What is a snitch? Is it a ball? How does it "mess around with the players"? How do they play this? It seems awfully difficult to play this on a field.

And Harry did what he had been doing a lot of recently: put it under the 'magic' column and let it go.

Draco continued to ramble and Harry looked around the room as he had many times so far that day. Even though he and Draco hadn't been friends for very long, Harry still considered his home more comfortable than his own. The room they were currently in was pale green in color and had white pillows on the black chairs that just gave off such calm feelings.

Harry looked closely at all of the furniture in the room (he realized how bored he really was when he found himself counting how many buttons an armchair by the fireplace had) until his gaze landed on Mr. Snape.

Harry wasn't sure what is was about the man, but something in him calmed immediately after he looked at him. He gave off a feeling of comfort and ease.

Harry of course realized that Mr. Snape didn't like him much after he refused eye contact. Harry wasn't sure what he had done wrong but for some reason after Mr. Snape rescued him from the Dursleys he wouldn't even look at the boy. Harry looked back at the mentioned man when he spoke.

"Draco," he said in a deep voice. "Would it really be so impossible for you to blabber about something other than quidditch?" Draco's cheeks flushed and he stared defiantly at his godfather.

"Well, Uncle Severus, what do you suggest I talk about?" He asked and waited for an answer.

"Anything else. Perhaps about your schooling or something else you like to do. But if you are going to ramble about that gods-forsaken sport, at least tell Mr. Potter what it _is_ first." Draco looked at Harry and realized for the first time how confused Harry but be feeling.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'll explain. Quidditch is a game played on broomsticks in the air and there are eight people per team, see, and…" and just like that Draco was off again.

Harry gave a fond smile at the boy who hadn't left him, contrary to what he thought earlier that day. He looked up towards where he knew the older wizard was watching him and looked away quickly. Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. He wanted so badly to be able to talk and bond with Draco, but he couldn't connect with him when he had no idea what he was talking about. Even if he did have something to talk about, Harry wasn't sure if he would be able to say anything while an adult was present in the room. Harry still wasn't very comfortable around them and given that Mr. Snape didn't seem to like him very much…

Harry wasn't sure what to do.

So he just nodded in the right places and avoided eye contact with the man who seemed intent on studying him.

* * *

Severus was… _confused_, for lack of a better word.

The boy on the sofa showed all signs of abuse and clearly has been through a lot. Severus had no doubt that this boy's childhood was much like his own, and it confused him because due to the abuse, Severus had become so _angry_ at his father. Yet the boy was nothing but kind and pure-hearted. Why wasn't he mad? Why didn't he want to hurt someone, to do anything to escape the pain?

And the boy – he should probably call him by his given name, but _James Potter_ gave him that name so he was reluctant – paid attention to Draco (he knew how difficult it was to pay attention to godson, who seemed to talk only about things you _really don't_ care about). Sure, he would occasionally drift back into his own thoughts (who doesn't?) but overall, he actually listened to what Draco had to say.

No pureblood actually pays attention to the conversations said in front of him. If it didn't directly have to do with said pureblood, it wasn't worth their time. So to watch this boy listen and nod along, it was somewhat refreshing.

Severus knew that Draco's friends were copies of their parents, so they hardly listened to Draco either. Only the Zabini boy and occasionally Miss Parkinson actually cared about what Draco had to say.

Yet here was a new boy who was happy to listen to his friend even if he didn't know what the conversation was currently about.

And it confused Severus because the behavior resembled someone he knew but _who?_

And as the green eyes flashed up to meet Severus's onyx ones before darting away again, Severus knew.

This boy – _Harry_ – was unquestionably Lily's child.

* * *

Harry followed Draco up to a guest bedroom in the same hall as the blond boy's room. He felt much better after a few hours and his injuries weren't given a second thought to as the raven-haired boy said goodnight and climbed into the bed that was so generously lent to him while he stayed at Malfoy Manor.

Harry managed to fight off sleep for a grand total of 4 minutes until the light sleeping potion took effect and Harry drifted off to sleep, far more content than he could remember ever being.

* * *

Severus was drinking his second cup of tea when Draco came stumbling into the kitchen in the morning. Severus raised an eyebrow at his godson as he waited for an explanation as to why he was awake at six in the morning. Draco just yawned and collapsed in the chair opposite to his godfather and stared hungrily at the cup in his hands. Severus rolled his eyes and summoned another cup and the tea materials and began to prepare the tea how he knew Draco liked it.

After a few minutes of compatible drinking, Severus looked pointedly at Draco and the boy sighed before beginning to speak.

"Remember when I told you Harry gets up at six-thirty? I want to surprise him with a good breakfast, since I doubt he's had one in a few days. And I want to do it as an apology I guess. Like an 'I'm sorry I let it get so bad' kind of thing." Severus nodded and studied Draco.

"Why did you say it was not safe to leave the manor?" He asked, unable to keep it in any longer. He needed to understand why his godson had protected him. "At the store yesterday, you said you could not visit him because it was not safe. Why did you lie?"

Draco frowned at his Uncle Severus. "I didn't do it for you, I did it for him. I don't want to know what would happen if he met another adult who brushed him aside like it seems all others have."

Severus looked at him without speaking before nodding slightly. "And since when have you been so mature? You are acting as if you are twice your age. You are seven, Draco, why are you acting as if Potter is your responsibility and yours alone."

Draco shrugged. "I feel as if I should've taken better care of him."

"You are _seven_," Severus repeated. "You cannot even take care of yourself."

"I understand that!" Draco replied with an angry frown on his face. "I just feel as though since he doesn't have anyone, I will be there."

"That certainly is not very Slytherin of you."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Draco, you do not have to take care of him. Lucius, Narcissa and I will be making sure he is okay from now on. All you have to do is be his friend." Draco didn't smile but nodded his acceptance and stood from his chair. He began rummaging through cupboards, looking for anything edible.

"What do you suggest I make for Harry?" He asked his Uncle.

"Can you even make anything?" Severus asked and Draco looked up, his normally pale cheeks a faint pink.

"No," he stated, "but you can. And you would be delighted to help me, right?" Draco gave Severus what he thought was his most charming smile and the older wizard scoffed.

"You need to work on that." He informed the young boy and stood. "What about pancakes?" He asked and Draco smiled and nodded eagerly, finally acting his real age. For ten minutes, they worked in relative silence until they heard someone in the hallway connected to the kitchen. Both wizards looked up and watched as Harry entered the room, looking around and hoping he wasn't intruding on anything.

"U-um, hi, you weren't in your room so I thought maybe you were down here and I smelt some food and followed it to find you; I hope that's okay…" Harry trailed off and Draco gave him a wide grin.

"Yeah we're making pancakes right now! Have you ever had them before?" He asked and Harry shook his head.

"Aunt Petunia makes them for Dudley sometimes but I've never made or tried them before." Severus frowned in annoyance with Harry's family, but Draco just brushed it aside.

"Well then you'll have some today! They're delicious; I can't wait to see you eat one! What kind should I make you try first? Chocolate chip or blueberry?" As Draco contemplated this, Harry turned towards Severus.

"Would you like help, sir?" He asked and Severus looked over at him.

"No thank you, Mr. Potter." Harry nodded but looked uneasy at the thought of sitting and eating a full breakfast. Harry looked up when the kitchen became silent. He looked over at Draco, who was looking at him expectantly and Harry immediately apologized.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He felt really bad; he didn't mean to get distracted by his thoughts!

"I asked if you like chocolate." Harry's eyes widened and he shrugged.

"I'm not sure; I've only had it twice. Or maybe three times, I can't remember."

Severus held the spatula in his hand in a death grip. Most children live on chocolate! How can he count how many times he's had it on _one hand_? But Draco merely nodded.

"You can try chocolate chip first then. I personally prefer banana, but we were out of bananas." Draco pouted a little until Severus interrupted his one-man pity party.

"Draco, go set the table for three." He ordered and Draco nodded and walked to the cupboards. Harry looked out of place and desperate to move or fiddle with something, so Severus decided to help him out. "Mr. Potter, if you could get the orange juice from the fridge and bring it to the table it would be greatly appreciated." Harry immediately gave a jerky nod and said a 'yes, sir' before doing as he was asked.

A few minutes later, the three of them were seated at a round table and Draco was desperately waiting to see if Harry would like the pancakes. Harry took a small bite and his eyes widened. Draco laughed and clapped.

"I knew you would like it!" He cheered and Harry smiled.

"It's really good." He said softly after he swallowed the pancake. Severus was pleasantly surprised at the manners Harry was showing. Of course, Harry was also respectful and well-mannered the previous night, but Severus figured that was because he was with someone new. Now, however, he managed to still be polite even though it was still before seven in the morning and Severus himself was having trouble keeping his head from falling on the table.

But even though he showed obvious signs of being tired, Harry was still sitting straight, chewing with his mouth closed and swallowing before speaking. Draco, however, seemed to be having trouble doing any of the three things.

"Draco, stop slouching." Severus said for what seemed like the tenth time. "And for goodness sake, keep your elbows off of the table." Draco hurried to comply and Severus watched as Harry also fixed his posture (not that it really needed to be fixed). He noticed that Harry tended to correct himself when someone else was ridiculed. Severus had no doubt that this was because he was trying to keep himself from receiving another beating.

Draco finished his pancakes (he had three) and looked over at Harry (who was pushing his food around on his plate). Severus also looked at him and frowned in, wait, was that concern? Yes, that was definitely concern, and maybe a little bit of worry, too.

"Are you feeling any better, Mr. Potter?" He asked. "You did not eat much." And it was true. With trying all of the different types of pancakes, he hardly ate the equivalent of one complete pancake.

"I feel fine, sir." Harry informed him. "Would you like me to do the dishes?" He asked and Severus frowned a little more.

"No, Mr. Potter, I believe a small amount of magic will clear the dishes and wash them well enough. How about you go play with Draco?" Harry didn't look happy at the prospect of not doing his share of chores but followed Draco out of the kitchen anyways. He didn't wish to argue with an adult if he could help it.


End file.
